Little While Lies
by Reigen Doki
Summary: Or 'The Benefits of a Vulcan Lover'. When Jim gets himself in trouble, Spock lies to protect him. Now they both have to deal with the consequences and figure out how to fix it. A fair amount of cursing goes on in this, sorry.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Star Trek. I am however impatiently waiting for the American release of 'Into Darkness'...Soon...**

**This is Kirk/Spock and something like love.**

**Little White Lies:**

_**Or the benefits of a Vulcan lover. When Jim gets himself in trouble, Spock lies to protect him. Now they both have to deal with the consequences and figure out how to fix it.**_

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

One year. One god damn year.

Oh, sure, he'd had worse years. (He shuddered at that thought, downing the drink in his hand.)

But still. One year. One long year of near isolation. One long year of keeping his distance from the people who served with him. One long year of death and pain and no one to turn to. Oh, sure, he had Bones, but he would never forgive himself if he leaned on him. He knew what it felt like to be leaned on, and would never ask for that kind of support, no matter how he offered it.

He'd always known it was hard, being the one everyone looked to. Hard being the one to bear the burden, being responsible for so many people. And he knew it was going to be rough, being the Captain of a starship. He'd accepted that burden.

But one year.

One year, and he was already feeling more stress than was strictly good for him.

Now, he would have been remiss to neglect to mention it was at least half his fault. He didn't trust people in position of powers, not even himself. Especially not himself. He hadn't had the best remodels in his life for not abusing power. So he most definitely did not trust himself not to overstep the boundaries of his position. So naturally, he isolated himself so he simply _couldn't_ overstep those bounds. That didn't stop the fact that his crew kept a distance as well.

He could practically feel their mistrust in him. An entire year of it. They were unsure of his abilities, made worse by the fact that he most certainly was not proving himself competent.

Seven officers in one year. Dead. Because of his negligence.

He took another drink at that, nodding thankfully to the bartender, who had seen fit to refill it while he was distracted.

So the crew had settled into this odd kind of distant tension with him. Conversations didn't stop abruptly when he entered rooms, but slowly and surely, they did taper off. And he could hear them start whispering as he left. Bones never brought it up, and he didn't blame him. The last thing they needed between them was the awkwardness of Bones trying to inform him of the crew's opinion of him. So they just dodged the topic entirely.

James T. Kirk sighed, downing the last of his drink and closing up his tab.

He stood, noting with a sloppy grin that there was a pleasant buzz stretching him. His head was trying to float off and his feet seemed to want to sink into the ground. It was a strange sensation, one he found usually came a drink before he was too plastered to walk straight. It made him feel tall, invincible. He knew for a fact that it was a dangerous place for him to be.

Especially during shore leave on a remote starbase.

Speaking of.

Jim pitched sidewise as a lean, colorful, bird-like creature shoulder blocked him. It squawked something that sounded distinctly not friendly and the five, duller bird-things with him screeched. Jim slapped a hand over one ear and flipped the guy off.

"Watch where you're going." Jim snapped.

The response came back in a flat, toneless translation. "Useless human. Apologies must be making."

Jim snorted, wondering where the hell they got their translators, because they sucked. "Squawk on this bastard." And he displayed a gesture purely Klingon in origin.

One of the lanky bird-things with the colorful one snatched its feathered appendage out. Dimly, as his focus was mostly on the long claws digging into his throat, he noticed they had a strange, feathery bat like quality about them, not actually bird. He racked his brain for the species, and sort-of recalled a new addition to the trade union for the Federation.

Bird-like. Planet had numerous medical properties and dylithium. Easily agitated. Demanded ridiculous punishments that were basically year long torture sessions that would end in death if you…if you attacked one of their elders.

Their elders, who became more colorful as they aged and were given positions of power, such as ambassador.

"Shit." Jim groaned, lashing out with one leg at the arm holding him.

He nearly cackled with glee as he felt the thin bone against his boot. It may not have broken, but sure as hell would hurt. The bird screeched, tightening his grip. Jim spat at him.

Might as well have him kill him here and get it over with.

"Kroykah!" A far too loud voice sounded. "Stop!"

Jim shifted his head sideways as the pressure on his throat lessened, and saw his crew standing there. Not all of them, obviously, but the important ones. Shit. Now he'd embarrassed himself in front of his crew. And Spock, managing to look serene and pissed all at once. Bones…McCoy was standing with the rest of them, shifting awkwardly, like he wanted to jump in.

"Vulcan." The pretty, old one started speaking. "An affront. Abusive, insulting, needing of punishment."

Spock tensed, glancing at Jim, who made one futile tug at the claw around his throat. "I see. Have your man put him down."

The bird-men (Was men the right word? It seemed wrong.) hesitated then the colorful one nodded and Jim was on his feet again. A second later, the boney claw hand removed itself from his neck. It felt oddly warm with the lack of hand. Sticky. What the man-thing's hand-thing sticky with something? Shit. Maybe he was a touch more buzzed than he thought.

"Demanding retribution. Deliver." The old bird insisted.

Jim watched the ripple of tension through his crew and winced. "Fuck you."

"Jim don't." McCoy warned even as the birds squawked.

A claw returned to his neck and he choked out a grunt. There was a crowed beginning to grow. He could hear the stilted jeers and subtle inching of chairs. People wanted to see this fight.

"I told you to release him." Spock nearly growled, catching the boney sort-of-wrist in a tight grip.

There was a distinct crunch, followed by a unique screeching howl from the bird holding him as it promptly dropped him. The other birds puffed up, looking particularly hilarious with their feathers sticking every which way. Jim laughed, then snorted, wobbling a bit when the alcohol deemed he wasn't allowed to have balance and humor.

A warm hand situated itself in the small of his back and Jim froze, the laugh dieing in a lump in his throat.

"Forgive my lover, he does not handle his drink well."

Where the hell did the floor go? Because it wasn't under Jim's feet. In fact, he had a feeling he was incredibly wrong about how much he had to drink, because shit had just gotten weird. As in, I really am hallucinating, right, weird. Because he could have sworn his first officer was touching him, and calling him his lover.

The birds all squealed highly, a sound he was beginning to dislike, and bowed back away from him, into the bar.

"Forgive. Forgive." The old bird insisted. "We were unaware."

And just like that, Jim felt himself being lead away from the bar, Spock still _possessively_ resting his hand on his back, his crew surrounding him. It was surreal and, Jim decided, he was definitely drunk, passed out and having the strangest drunken dream. Why he was dreaming that, he had no idea.

"What just happened?" Jim finally asked when he'd been lead to a fairly secluded area, and found himself backed into a corner by his crew.

"You attacked and aggravated an ambassador that was about to have you ritually disemboweled." Uhura spoke up, eyes flashing with anger.

Jim cringed, her tone going straight to his alcohol addled brain. "Uh…so what was that back there?"

Bones broke out into a grin, and Scotty and Sulu started snickering. Chekov was slowly turning red. Uhura…well she pursed her lips, like she wasn't sure if she wanted to be amused or yell at him. Seeing as he was getting no answer, he slowly, cringingly, turned his gaze to Spock.

Bad idea.

Spock had leveled him with a frigid look, eyes nearly tan with his pupils constricted in anger. Jim boldly didn't squeak, but it took quite a bit of effort not to scrunch his shoulders up. Making himself smaller seemed counterproductive at the moment. Like showing weakness would encourage another attack.

"Had I not interfered, you would be dead, Captain."

Jim winced and brought his hand up to rub his neck. There was a soft squelching sound as something slick and sticky coated his palm. He yanked his hand back, and saw it coated with red. He was bleeding…oh yeah. Claws.

"Sorry?" Jim tried, looking his crew over.

"Sorry?" Sulu barked. "You're sorry?"

Jim ducked his head. "I guess."

A distinct rumbling growl from his first officer made him snap it back up. "I do not take pleasure in lying for you, Captain. Do not place yourself in such a position that I must do so again."

Jim saw red, and thanked the buzz for making the transition to anger so easy. "Well fuck you too. I didn't ask for you to step in, did I? I can handle myself."

"Ye were handling yur self inta a bad spot." Scotty scolded.

Jim lashed out with a glare at all of them. "What the fuck do you care? If I fuck myself over, you get another Captain. Big deal."

There was a moment of stunned silence, before Chekov spoke up. "You…you hawe no attachment to us? Ve are simply creuv?"

The young blond swallowed hard and Sulu wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "That's fucked up Kirk. Maybe it'd be no skin off your nose if you had a completely different crew, but we give a shit about you."

Jim snorted. "Yeah. Sure. I'm your _Captain_, not your friend. I know that."

"We aren't friends?" Uhura asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

Jim found this hilarious, for some reason, and was nearly hysterical with laughter. "Why the fuck would we be?"

McCoy squirmed. "Jim…"

"No." Jim straightened himself, voice flat, with no traces of humor any more. "Come on. This is bullshit. Why are you really here? I mean seriously, we're barely acquaintances. We have nothing in common. We don't talk about anything outside of work. You can't play the friend cards. So why?"

"Because you are our Captain. We trust and respect you." Uhura told him, voice still shell-shocked.

"You shouldn't."

"Enough, Captain." Spock told him. "It would be best if you allowed Doctor McCoy to inspect your wounds and then returned to your quarters to sleep off the effects of the alcohol in your system."

Jim wrinkled his nose. "I don't think I like you ordering me around."

"Down you go." McCoy announced as he jabbed him with a hypospray.

Jim crumpled to the ground in seconds, the sedative doing its job. Spock lifted him swiftly, casting a look at McCoy.

"It was the best option right now." McCoy shrugged.

"Vhat vas Keptin beliewing?" Chekov asked, following as they all started towards their provided rooms. "He vas being wery…strange, da? Vhy vould he not be beliewing ve are his comrades?"

McCoy sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Boy has issues with authority. Naturally, he assumes everyone else does too. That translates to issues with him. Combine the fact that he draws the attention of everyone in the room…he probably feels isolated."

"That would make sense." Uhura watched him thoughtfully. "The crew, even us, tends to try to impress him, rushing to tell him ship business when he's around or clamming up in the fear they'll embarrass themselves. He probably thinks they…_we_ can't picture him as anything but a Captain to be feared and avoided."

"Aye, he's as bad as our lad here." Scotty thumped Spock's shoulder and received an eyebrow in response.

"I do not comprehend your statement."

"Says the man who took seven months to figure out the science department couldn't barely talk to him because they idolized him, rather than despised him." Sulu chimed in.

"By the way." McCoy grinned, looking up from where he was waving a tricorder over Jim as they walked. "That was fucking brilliant back there. Who knew point-eared computers could lie?"

Spock stiffened a bit in his walking. "It was logical to use duplicity in such a situation to ensure the safety of the Captain."

Uhura giggled. "Uh huh. And that was _completely_ necessary, I'm sure."

Spock went a little green around the ears. "While it would not have been my first choice to diffuse the situation, the Captain seemed determined to find the worst transgression he could commit and attempt to do worse. It was the quickest and most effective method for remedying the problem."

… .. . .. …

Jim groaned, getting a mouthful of pillow for his effort. A mouthful of damp pillow. He must have been drunk if he was drooling. That, and the taste of dried sweat and battery acid soaked socks in his mouth (don't ask, it was a weird summer) was a very good indication that he'd had too much. Sometimes he drank a bit father than that blissfully stretched out feeling before it actually caught up with him.

"Uh." Jim groaned again when he extracted his mouth from the pillow, wiping his hand across it.

It was gross.

"Bout damn time Jimmy." McCoy growled from somewhere to his…fuck, to his back.

"Uh." Jim agreed, trying to struggle up.

"Do you remember last night?" Bones hummed in a almost chipper tone, readying a hypo.

Jim froze, clutching at the memories. "Oh shit. Oh shit. Ohshit. OHSHIT! Oh fucking hell."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Why the hell did you let me say that shit in front of them?" He groaned, sitting up and gripping his head. "I made a damn fool of myself."

"You're damn right you did." McCoy growled. "Mouthing off like that when you have no clue how much we all really-"

"Nu-uh." Jim shook his head. "Hypo first."

McCoy rolled his eyes, but complied. Jim hissed at the sharp injection, then sighed in pleasure as the feeling of a hot poker being stabbed into his brain through his nose dissipated. Hangovers sucked.

"You're a miracle worker."

"You're an idiot."

"Bones…"

"If I've said it once, I've said it a dozen times. Your crew loves and respects you." McCoy huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"They-"

"Shut up." McCoy growled. "And get up and eat something."

… .. . .. …

His crew was staring. His _entire_ crew was staring. He was sure every member of the Enterprise was in the canteen, along with several people from the starbase that he did not know. There were, he noticed as Bones pushed him past, a distinct number of mournful looks cast his direction. His walking stuttered to a stop as he realized Bones was directing him to a table with his senior staff, who he'd embarrassed himself in front of the night before.

"Keptin!"

"Cap'n"

"Kirk."

"Kirk!"

Jim winced as they all spoke at once, save for the Vulcan giving him a silent, measuring look. McCoy pressed him into the seat next to said Vulcan.

"Gotta sit with your boyfriend Jimmy."

Jim flushed scarlet and Spock sent him what could be misconstrued as a scathing look. "W-what?"

"Everyone's heard by now." Uhura explained. "So as long as we're on the starbase, you have to play happy couple."

"Aw shit." Jim groaned. "I am so sorry."

"It was I who chose to present such a relationship, Captain, therefore I should be the one to apologize."

"No. No. You saved my ass back there last night, like always." Jim shook his head. "I owe you one. A big one."

"Very well Captain."

Sulu choked on a laugh. "You've done it now Kirk. You made him lie for you so he _will_ be collecting that debt eventually."

Spock simply quirked an eyebrow at the table and returned to his meal. Jim sank further in his seat, scrunching up his brow. Most of the table occupants assumed it was directed at the fact that he would in fact be paying up some favor or another eventually.

Jim's thoughts couldn't be farther from that.

Here his crew was, laughing and talking with him like it were a daily routine. Maybe…it was? They did eat together often, but Jim was always quiet when it wasn't ship business, and the conversations tapered off quickly when all eyes darted to him. Could…could that be because they thought he wasn't enjoying the subject and actually wanted to include him? Was…had he been paranoid the entire time? It seemed almost like they were…content. Like they were so used to thinking of him in a friendly manner that even when he fucked up and made a damn fool of himself, that was just something friends ignored. And apparently teased about.

Were they friends?

Jim didn't know the first thing about friendship, really. All of his past 'friends', with the exception of Bones, had been horribly fucked up relationships with more 'benefits' than benefits. The air quotes definitely made it less classy.

He noticed, with a start, that the table had lapsed into silence again. Everyone was watching him politely, waiting. He knew to the second what was going to happen.

Three.

Two.

One.

"So I was in the labs the other day…" Sulu started, in the hope of interesting him in ship business.

Jim squirmed, looking away from the table. Was it bad that he knew what he was doing? He'd never really thought about it before, even if he instinctively knew it was happening. So was it a bad thing, now in light of what it could be?

"Look uh…I've got some work to look over. Outfitting and all that." Jim stood, flashing a captainly grin at them. "I'll see you another time."

There was a chorus of goodbyes and several strange looks as he headed off. Absentmindedly, he wondered if it was true. Did his crew really actually like him? And if so, why? Clearly he payed no attention to them, so why would they like and respect someone like that?

So lost in his thoughts, Jim didn't notice the big, blue-shirted man until he crashed straight into him. The man turned around, and Jim instantly wished he hadn't. Because he knew this tall, sandy brunette standing in front of him quite well.

"Finnegan." Jim croaked out in his best casual voice.

Tim Finnegan, to be precise. Senior during Jim's freshman year. Bane of his existence. Man who never learned that pranks could go too far. Man who was currently staring down at him with a mixture of glee and pure mischievousness.

"Jimmy!" He wrapped his arms around him and practically picked him up in a hug.

Jim coughed, a loud whooping sound in the other man's ear, and was promptly set down, shit eating grin still in place. Jim straightened out his shirt, grinning weakly.

"Aw Jaysus. Haven' seen you in forever." Finnegan laughed, punching his arm. "And look here, you've got braids and everything! I heard it but I couldn't believe it."

"Yeah, well, you and me both." Jim grimaced at his own words, but it went unnoticed.

"Ha. I bet. Hell, you're probably the same six dollar whore you've always been." It was said in a jovial tone, almost pleasantly.

Jim paled, clenching his fists tightly. "I was never a whore."

Finnegan blinked at him, and his grin redoubled when he realize he struck a nerve. "Oh yeah? Guess not. You never did get paid for it. Just a hot shower and a meal. Sometimes not even that. Rode hard and put away wet, hu?"

Jim gritted his teeth, well aware that _everyone_ was staring now and wishing he had at least made it into the hallway to have this conversation. "The hell would you know Finnegan? _You_ were never part of my personal life."

Finnegan hissed, taking the attack personally. "Your personal life, or your sexual life? Oh, wait, I forgot, you don't actually separate those. But I've never seen you in a command position before."

Jim blanched, and couldn't hear the sound of a few chairs scraping over the blood rushing to his ears. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Dare what? Insinuate that you can go around ordering your Yeomen to bend over and take it? Because I'd never suggest you abuse your power that way."

Jim lunged, and never moved an inch as two pairs of arms wrapped him up, holding him back. Sulu and McCoy struggled against him a moment as he tried desperately to listen to the red clouding his vision. Finnegan barred his teeth at Jim, proud of himself. And then…not so much.

Jim blinked, realizing what he had just seen.

Spock had swept forward, grabbing Finnegan by the shirt and _chucking_ him. Hard. Into the wall. Almost six feet away. All while looking completely serene and displaying no emotion. Finnegan sputtered, trying to stand against his protesting body as security officers made themselves known.

Sulu and Bones released Jim, who was gawking at Spock.

"What happened here?" One officer demanded.

Finnegan so politely answered. "That green blooded fuck attacked me."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him, almost as if the gesture was offering to show him a real attack. The officers looked at him, hands on their phasers.

"Why did you attack this man?"

He gestured lightly to Jim. "He was verbally abusing my-"

"Oh!" One guard squeaked, cutting him off. "Oh god. We are so sorry. We won't bother you further."

Jim and Finnegan both looked like someone had just decided to start talking about the Andorian bocce ball league. The guard that hadn't interrupted knelt quickly to help Finnegan up.

"We should get you out of here."

"What? You're just going to let him-"

The guard slapped a hand over his mouth and hissed. "You just insulted his boyfriend, so yeah."

Finnegan turned a strange shade of pale violet, like he was trying to get flushed with anger _and_ be pale from blood draining away from his face. Jim would have found that hilarious, but he was busy trying to figure out what just happened. He was good up until the point where his 'boyfriend' was apparently allowed to do what ever the hell he wanted. And there was so much to turn over in that statement that he didn't know where to start. Finally, he broke it down by the biggest issue first.

_Boyfriend!_

Okay, yes…he'd said last night…but that was just…and Bones had only been teasing…so why did everyone…why was Spock still…no. Just…No. There was no relationship there. They barely spoke to each other. Spock had admitted it was a lie. But he was still using it as an excuse? What the hell?

Okay. That was going to take a long discussion to sort out.

Next issue.

Spock. Spock threw Finnegan. Spock threw Finnegan into a wall. Spock threw Finnegan into a wall and didn't get in trouble. Spock threw Finnegan into a wall, because he insulted Jim, and didn't get in trouble. Spock threw Finnegan into a wall, because he insulted Jim, and didn't get into trouble, because he insulted Jim? Because he insulted Jim and Jim was (in theory mind you) his boyfriend? How the hell did that work?

There was a rather incessant pushing at his shoulder, and Jim found his crew practically shoving him out of the canteen. "What just happened?"

Déjà vu much?

Spock had the decency to look bashful. "I should apologize captain. I did not deem in necessary to allow you to place yourself in trouble with the authorities at this juncture."

"So that's why Sulu and McCoy held me back while you _threw_ him." Jim almost snapped. "I kind-of figured that out already, thanks. What I want to know is why the hell they took one look at you and cut and ran."

Spock went green, and Uhura took over the explanation. "There are certain…benefits to being romantically involved with a Vulcan."

Jim wanted to ask about that. Wanted to point out some very interesting things he was starting to notice about it. Wanted to demand an explanation. His mouth, however, got started before his brain could. "You would know, hu?"

Everyone winced collectively. Well, Spock's eyebrow winced, which was actually pretty cool…

"You really haven't been paying attention to anything about our personal lives, have you?" Uhura asked, and damn if her voice didn't sound just a bit hurt.

Jim furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry. Okay? But even now…I'm not going to magically just know shit I didn't think was my business before…"

Uhura offered a weak smile. "Yeah okay. Spock and I broke up two and a half months into the mission."

"W-what?" If Jim was a little floored, well, maybe he had a right to be. "Why?"

Spock lifted both eyebrows at him. "We had determined we were incompatible as romantic partners and further attempts to change that would be detrimental to our performance on the ship."

"Oh…okay…uh…" Jim glanced around, wondering how the hell they were all so calm with this sharing. "So…what do you mean benefits?"

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Right back to the point with you, isn't it?"

"Well yeah. I want to know what I just got volunteered for." Jim huffed. "I mean hell, are they just this nice because no one really knows how to stand up to Vulcans since they're an endangered species?" Jim's eyes widened as soon as he finished speaking. "Oh shit. That was…that was so fucked up."

"I can assure you that is not the reason for their allowances." Spock told him, looking no worse for wear because of the statement.

"Vulcans," Bones launched into explanation, "Are extremely protective of their mates. It's a biological thing that they can't actually help much. The Federation has always given leeway to couples with Vulcans involved, to some extent."

Jim scowled. "Wait, always?"

"Yes Jim, always."

"How the hell did I never notice?"

"Most Vulcans don't couple outside of their own species." McCoy shrugged. "And it's just generally understood that if you fuck with a Vulcan, their mate will have words with you. Besides, most of them can care for themselves."

"I can take care of myself." Jim didn't miss the half beat of skepticism. "Seriously."

"Yeah, but assuming you actually were romantically involved, Spock would still want to protect you anyway." Uhura told him.

When he glanced sideways, his first officer was doing a rather fetching imitation of a green tomato. And where the hell had his mind pulled the word 'fetching' from? And that made him turn red. Shit.

"Uh…"

"Not that we don't want to all protect you anyway." Sulu cut in.

"Tha' would be why the lad went so far ta protect ye."

"Because he's obviously not _actually_ interest in you romantically." If there was a touch of glee to Bones' tone, it was directly attributed to the teasing material he now had on both men.

"Right." Jim mumbled, stopping from where they had slowly but surely been making their way through the shops on the base. "Uh. I was serious about that work. So…"

"Yeah, yeah. Get out of here. But try to be more careful, please?" Uhura pushed his shoulder gently.

Jim scowled. Mostly at the insinuation that he would get in trouble again. Partially at the fact that he had somehow become Uhura's friend. After three years in the academy of doggedly being nice and trying to be friends. One year of basically ignoring her, and she was as loyal as any friend he could ask for. That was wrong on so, so many levels.

… .. . .. …

Jim groaned, slamming his head into his desk as the chime on his door sounded. Apparently every member of his crew felt the need to come speak to him. Most were congratulatory, some were disheartened as missing a chance to get him, and some were disturbing and vaguely hinting that Jim should probably warn Spock he had some people he should stay away from on the ship. With a long suffering groan, he shuffled over to the door. There was no way he was inviting them into his room anymore.

He punched the release and the door slid open to reveal his slightly harried looking First Officer. "Spock?"

"Captain. May I enter?"

"Uh…" Jim caught sight of a few giggling ensigns a distance away and flushed. "Yeah okay."

Spock brushed past him rather quickly and Jim shut the door just as fast. Great. Now, on top of the awkward rumors _Spock_ started about them being in a relationship, people were going to think…

Oh god.

Jim sat down hard on the ground, earning a sharp, surveying look. "Are you unwell?"

"I don't want people to think we're sleeping together." Jim said quickly, before he could stop himself.

To his surprise, Spock looked relieved for a split second. "You would not have cause to worry. Vulcans do not traditionally engage in coitus until marriage."

"Thank god." Jim whispered, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to hit the edge of his desk. "That's actually a load off my mind. If nothing else in this fucked up situation is clear, I want that to be."

Spock actually, visibly squirmed. Only a little, really more of a subtle shift in where he was resting his weight, but it totally happened. Jim missed it, because he was contemplating the inside of his eyelids. But it did happen.

"I apologize Captain. I was unaware that my course of action would have the consequences it has." Jim cracked one eye open to see an almost bashful look in those dark eyes. "I have caused you discomfort."

Jim snorted. "Not really. I mean…it's weird, yeah. And this whole situation couldn't be more complicated, but we can sort it out. We can tell the crew what happened, or we can break up, or whatever and be done with it. It doesn't have to be awkward."

"Indeed." Spock inclined his head to him. "I suspect simply informing them of the occurrences will not suffice. The crew is notoriously stubborn in clinging to what they believe to be denial."

Jim actually laughed at that, hauling himself up. "You mean if we tell them it was just a lie to keep me safe, they'll assume ulterior motives, sexual tension or some hidden feelings or something? I guess we'll just have to break up in front of everyone then."

"I do not understand why this must occur publicly. Would it not be acceptable to simply allow it to be heard that we were no longer…pursuing each other?" Spock was blushing, which he should really stop doing, because it ruined his tough, emotionless look.

Jim grinned. "I'm an exhibitionist. And besides, we want this over fast, like removing a bandage. If people actually see us arguing and breaking it off, they'll find it much more reliable than Bones telling them I sat down and had a talk about feelings with him."

Spock raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to reply when the chime went off again. Jim dropped his shoulders, cursing as he turned to answer the door. Cupcake was standing there with a gift basket in his arms.

"What the hell?"

"Sorry. Security insisted and since I'm head of it they wanted me to deliver it." Cupcake…Giotto, scratched idly at the back of his neck with one hand. "It's…ah…it's a congratulations gift. We know your relationships still pretty…uh….new, but…well everyone's been betting on you two getting together sooner or later…and…we're happy? Uh…that you two got this all worked out…or something. There was a lot of squealing and shit when I ducked out of there."

Jim shared a grimace with him and accepted the package. "This is way too generous. We aren't-"

"Nonsense, Captain." Giotto smiled actually. "We all adore both of you. If it makes you happy, we're going to back you on it. This is just a little token to prove that."

Jim's mouth flapped open and shut a moment before Spock stepped in, thanking him. Giotto's face matched his shirt as he realized he had obviously interrupted _something_ and he hurried off. With the door shut again, Jim placed the basket on his desk, staring at the candies and stuffed toys and what not.

"They've been in and out of here all day, congratulating me…"

"I as well have had to accept the congratulations of the crew." Spock inspected the basket with a look of mild interest. "I am curious, however, why the security crew would believe it inevitable that we eventually found ourselves in a romantic relationship."

"Because they have nothing better to do than gossip?" Jim growled.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. "I believe we were discussing the cessation of our perceived romantic relationship before Lieutenant Giotto's interruption?"

Jim flushed a little. "Yeah, okay. Do you see my point?"

Spock seemed to ponder it a moment before inclining his head in agreement. "Very well. What do you suggest be the focal point of our argument?"

"Well, it'd have to be something big, and something that just isn't going to change…" Jim tapped his fingers on his chin. "I suppose we could argue about our different emotional needs or something. That would probably be the most likely…"

Jim trailed off, noting the pinched look in Spock's eyes. "You are correct, Captain. That would be the most likely cause for the termination of a relationship at this stage."

Jim scowled, just _knowing_ that was one reason Spock and Uhura broke up, and not wanting to be like her a bit. "Actually, it probably won't work. It just isn't something I would have a complaint about. So we'll have to find something more believable."

An unreadable look flashed through Spock's eyes. "I admit I am unfamiliar with what would normally be grounds for such a course of action."

"Me either. Technically, you're the first person I've ever dated." Jim flushed as soon as he said it, wondering what the hell had made him put his foot in his mouth like that.

Damn Spock and his unreadable looks. "Perhaps we should employ the aid of Doctor McCoy or Lieutenant Uhura."

"Yeah, probably." Jim chuckled. "Shit, we can't even find a good reason to break up on our own."

And it sank in what he said. They both flushed spectacularly, eyes darting elsewhere. Had Jim really just implied that they wouldn't make that bad a couple? Well that was just stupid. Besides, they weren't…

"Are you Bi?" Foot in mouth: 3. Filter: 0. "Are Vulcans even allowed to be Bi?" Filter was still at zero.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. "While the standard purpose of a mate is indeed to procreate, there are other considerations. It was not uncommon, in pre-Surakian times, for Vulcans to have one mate of each gender. One for procreation, and one for mental compatibility."

"Hu. Go figure." Jim really didn't know what else to say to that.

"If you are not still engaged by work, I would request we speak to our companions now."

"Right." Jim scrubbed his hands on his thighs. "Okay. We should totally do that."

… .. . .. …

That was how Jim, Spock, Bones, and Uhura all ended up with their heads bowed together in a little café on the starbase. Once they'd explained the situation, and what they were planning to do, Uhura and Bones had jumped on the opportunity to assist. So far, they had nothing.

"How the hell does that not bother you?" Bones snapped, speaking on one of Spock's personality traits.

"It just doesn't." Jim shrugged, staring down at his coffee.

"Well, maybe you're allergic to his incense?" Uhura tried.

"I would change my incense if that were the case." Spock reprimanded.

"Besides, I like how he smells." Jim nearly choked on his own words, managing to bring a blush to his face. "You know…objectively."

Bones squinted at him. "How about the fact that you don't do commitment? Maybe we could make an argument that Spock needs more stability in the relationship and Jim can't settle down that much?"

"Vulcans can wait a really long time if they think someone is worth it." Uhura told him.

"Ug." McCoy downed half his coffee, looking frustrated at the two. "Are you sure you actually want out of this relationship? I can't think of anyone actually standing your shit more."

Jim flushed. "I'm not gay Bones. And I'm not interested in Spock like that." Why was that a separate point?

"Then why don't you just tell people that you were incompatible?" Uhura asked, frustrated herself.

"With the exceptions of sexuality, actual interest, and some unknown variables, we are quite compatible." Spock told her. "But we do not desire such a relationship."

"Aw hell." Jim groaned, placing his face in his palms. "Maybe I should just go start a fight and you shouldn't swoop in to rescue me. That might get the point across."

"And defeat the purpose of his lying for you in the first place." McCoy reminded.

"Well I have no idea then." Jim groaned. "Because believe it or not I don't sleep around anymore and I don't think I want to start that up again just so people think Spock dumped me for cheating on him."

"That's oddly mature of you." Uhura hummed. "I'm sure we'll think of something. I'll let Sulu and Scotty know to try and think something up."

"Not Chekov?"

"Chekov is half sure you two will 'come to your senses' and decide you do want to be in a relationship." McCoy snorted.

Jim huffed, standing. "I'm exhausted. This shit is too much."

The lack of proper sleep and his day of avoiding food had apparently caught up to him with a sudden, minor dizzy spell. He promptly fell flat on his ass, in Spock's lap. Spock was far too concerned over his health to really be stressing over the improper touch at the moment.

"I'm fine." Jim insisted, gripping his head. "Just a little dizzy."

"When was the last time you ate?" McCoy asked, tricorder already waving over him.

"This morning." Jim grunted. "Don't think I've drunken anything since then either."

"So you got drunk, dehydrated yourself, and then didn't do anything about it?" McCoy tucked the tricorder away, shaking his head. "Get something to drink before you go to bed. Preferably a fruit juice to help with the low blood sugar."

"Uh huh." Jim responded absently as he tried to squirm out of his First Officer's lap. "I can handle myself now Spock. Sorry for falling on you."

"You are forgiven." Spock told him, holding onto his waist a second longer before assisting him up and standing himself. "It is prudent I retire to meditate. I will accompany you to your room."

"What?" Jim froze, giving him his best hell no look. "I do not need that."

"I'm with Spock on this. Either I follow you back to your room, or he does. Since he needs to head that direction anyway, it's more logical." McCoy told him, grinning like a madman. "I don't trust you not to get in trouble, not take care of yourself, or get kidnapped or something."

Jim huffed, but turned on his heel to leave. Further protests would just get ridiculous. Spock followed after quickly, arms in a comfortable parade rest at his back. Jim was content to pretend he wasn't actually following him, until an obscenely strong, warm hand wrapped around his bicep and pulled him flush against him. Jim's eyes darted up to Spock who was looking at someone else entirely. When he glanced over, he saw six very nervous birds.

"Ah. Ambassador." Jim bowed to him, hampered only slightly by Spock's grip on his upper arm. "I apologize for my behavior last night."

"No! Not necessary. Not." The old bird insisted hurriedly. "All forgiven."

Jim smiled winningly at him. "Thank you all the same. I can assure you I will never behave in such a manner again."

"Wonderful, wonderful." The bird insisted, eying Spock the entire time. "Departing time. Until again?"

"Of course." Jim smiled.

The bird and its entourage hurried off. Jim watched them go a moment before ripping his arm free of Spock's grip and sending him a scathing glare. Spock simply lifted an eyebrow at him.

"You didn't have to do that."

"It was prudent they remember who you belonged to."

Jim choked on the air he was breathing, tripping over his own two feet and careening into a wall to his side. Spock didn't move to catch him, hiding the amusement in his eyes with a look of mild inquiry. Jim took a deep breath, finally understanding why some people said things hit them like a physical punch. He suddenly felt very weak kneed, and blissfully loose and it was disturbing as all hell.

"B-Belong to?" Jim squeaked. "I don't _belong_ to anyone."

Spock had the audacity to blush. "I apologize, Captain. The concept of relationships on Vulcan is perhaps more…demanding that those of earth humans."

"H-how so?" Damn he would like to have control over his voice again, because he wasn't sure himself if he was pissed or thrilled and that was just not happening.

Spock's eyes darted sideways. "One is both possessing and possessed by their mate, touching and touched…"

"So this is an equal thing?"

Spock almost looked affronted. "Of course."

"O-oh." Why did that make things worse? Because seriously, he felt like jelly. Any second now he'd hit the ground with a wet flop.

"Are you in need of assistance, Captain?"

Jim shook his head, righting himself. There was no way he was getting assistance back to his rooms because his First Officer laying claim to him made him weak in the knees. Nu-uh. That would be admitting it happened. And that would require scrutiny. And that…that was not happening.

"You know. If we were in a relationship I would never stand for that."

Dare he say it, Spock looked momentarily displeased. "I see."

Jim realized how that came out, and felt the indescribable urge to explain. "You calling me Captain, that is." Spock glanced at him, but he noticed a hint of interest there. "I mean, obviously on the bridge and in important meetings and things, yeah, but we're on shore leave. One shore leave, I should just be Jim."

"Very well…Jim."

This time he didn't trip, but that was only because robots put more inflection on his name. Still, hearing Spock actually call him that was weirdly huge. Damn this weird friendship for sneaking up on him. Now he couldn't run away from it like he did with most of his friendships. And suddenly there were _feelings_ and crap. He wouldn't stand for that, either, but he had no idea what he could do about it. Apparently ignoring them and only acting professional didn't help. And saying 'I'm a big wuss who can't handle being liked' sounded like a bad idea.

Spock stopped walking and it took Jim a moment to realize they were at his quarters and Spock was waiting to be let in. He found himself flushing a little. "You have the codes into my room you know. You don't have to ask permission."

Wrong thing to say. Because Vulcans sure did blush a lot when they actually blushed. "Understood, Ca-Jim."

Shit. Hearts weren't supposed to flutter. That was a medical condition or something. Because it was just weird finding it adorable that you made your usually stoic, thought-out-every-word-before-saying-it, perfect, Vulcan First Officer to stop mid word and change it.

Wait, rewind. What was that one in there?

Perfect?

Jim hurriedly punched his code in, deciding the lack of care for himself was a lot harder on his mental state and he was in shock anyway. He could be excused some weird thoughts. It wasn't like his thought process was normal on a good day.

"Okay." Jim entered, and immediately braced himself on the wall to kick his boots off. "Replicator 's in the corner…but you know that. Of course you know that. The layout of theses rooms are all the same. Down to the annoying way they vacuum the carpet to orbital west. And the dampener behind the head board, like anyone is getting laid in these rooms."

Jim halted, realizing he was rambling, and gave Spock a sheepish look. Spock simply quirked an eyebrow at him, glancing subtly around the room.

"You have spent considerable time on starbases." Not a question, which meant he didn't have to answer.

"Are you staying for tea or just watching me down k'vass?"

Both of Spock's eyebrows winged up. "I do not believe that is what the doctor had in mind when suggesting you drink something with high sugar content."

Jim shrugged. "So?"

Spock considered him a moment before nodding. "If it is no trouble, I would desire a glass of sweet tea."

"Oh so you can desire things?" Jim teased, before scowling. "You're not going to drink it, are you? You're going to shove it down my throat."

Spock almost, almost, pursed his lips, like he were amused. "I think you will find I have developed a taste for the drink, Jim. It was introduced to me, along with peach tea, by Doctor McCoy."

Jim rounded on him, eyes narrow. "Okay, what the hell? Is everyone friends on this ship but me?"

"They had presumed you to be their friend as well."

Jim's shoulders rolled forward immediately in a defensive hunch. "So maybe I fucked up on that. Okay. I get it. But seriously. How did I not notice you and _Bones_ becoming friends?"

"Friends may be a strong sentiment for our relationship, however I believe your lack of observation stemmed from your belief that our personal relationships were our own. While attempting to afford the crew privacy, you actively blocked yourself from observing changes in the crew."

Jim scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "If it helps, I am sorry."

"I do not believe they find you guilty of any transgression."

Jim smiled up at him, and suddenly it was back to normal…which was actually just weird instead of tense. Not that there wasn't some kind of tension going on. He just had no idea what it was all about. So extra weird. Like, Spock standing over him like they were really close to each other and ensuring he drank two full glasses of fruit juice before he could change for bed. Or the cat call from one of his crew members when he said goodbye at the door to his room, insisting they kiss goodnight. Yeah. Took a while for the blush to go down.

And that added to the weirdness because James T. Kirk did not blush. Not even when he _did_ want into someone's pants. And not when people actively tried to embarrass him. And not when he put himself in ridiculous situations that would be cripplingly humiliating for anyone else. But apparently he blushed when he was dating his first officer.

Damn.

… .. . .. …

They hadn't found a solution. Which meant they shipped out from the base with everyone still believing they were in some kind of relationship. Which was awkward as all hell. But he was sure they would figure out how to deal with it. It wasn't like it would be too hard to convince his crew they broke up once he actually figured out how to do it.

But the best laid plans and all that nonsense.

"Sorry to bother you just when you got back from shore leave." Pike said in a flat tone to convey how very little he meant it.

"Oh I'm sure." Jim grinned like the little bastard he was. "But I simply can't guess what you could need from us when we're supposed to be charting unknown territory."

"I'm afraid there's been a special request for your presence." And now Pike looked grim, so Jim sat up straight and put a serious face on.

"By who?"

"T'Pau." The entire bridge crew snapped their heads up and over, looking shocked.

"Wait, T'Pau." Jim valiantly didn't glance sideways at Spock. "What does she want us for?"

"She didn't specify, just said it was prudent you come to New Vulcan immediately." Pike looked as pleased by that news as Jim did. And neither of them liked being given cryptic orders.

"I guess we don't have much choice then. Kirk out." Jim stood as the view screen went black. "Any idea Spock?"

"No, Captain."

"Perfect." Jim growled. "I swear, if this is something that could be handled over a subspace call I'll-"

"Jim." Spock's tone was surprisingly warm and warning all at once.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I _know_ she's the head of your family and I know how important she is to the federation and I'm pretty sure she could still kick my ass no matter how old she is but that won't stop me from fantasizing about punching her in the face." When Jim finally looked the room over, most everyone seemed amused.

He realized he'd never done something like that in front of his crew, not even during the Narada incident. He was always the consummate professional around them. They'd never actually seen him be the cocky captain he had so liked to pretend he would turn out when he was in the academy. He almost automatically shrank back on himself, not physically, but mentally. His brain screeched alarms that this was far too open for a captain, but their warm smiles were trying to tell him otherwise.

"Chekov, set a course for New Vulcan." Jim tried grinning, and found it was met with blatant smiles. "And Spock?"

"Yes Captain?"

"Could you…I don't know, try sending a message and see if anyone will give _you_ the time of day? Because I'm willing to bet three months on Risa that this is some private Vulcan business they want you there for." Jim flashed him a mildly annoyed look. "It would be a load off my mind if you could at least tell me it wasn't an emergency."

Spock stood, nodding once to him. "Of course, Captain. I was inclined to request your permission to do so had you not suggested it."

Jim flashed a grin at him, feeling better already. "Yeah, well, I guess we're just in tune."

Aw shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Jim flushed and sat back down in the Captain's chair. The crew was giving him _those_ looks. And he couldn't believe he just said that, because it had sounded an awful lot like flirting. Was he always this flirty with Spock? Because he didn't feel like he was doing anything different. And if he was this…well, _this_ then no wonder everyone was saying he was friendly and thought he had a thing for his First Officer. It felt all intimate and shit.

How did he manage to be so oblivious for an entire year?

He didn't notice when Spock returned from composing his message, but he noticed when Spock got an answer. Uhura straightened in her seat and sent the message on, eying Spock for some reaction. Jim and, by virtue of it being an interesting topic, the rest of the bridge crew, watched as he read the message over. His posture stiffened and his fist clenched at his side. Jim found himself standing and approaching before he really thought it over.

Spock closed the message down and stood. Before Jim could comment, Spock had a hold on his bicep and was dragging him from the bridge. He yelped, flailing his free arm in a pinwheel to keep from overbalancing as he tried to walk sideways to keep up with his First Officer.

Spock released him when they were in the safety of the turbo lift. Jim immediately crossed his arms, offering himself some protection from being hauled around like that again. Spock took a deep, centering breath and fixed Jim with an almost apologetic look.

"What exactly was in that message?"

Spock glanced away, locking his eyes on the wall. "You were correct in your assessment that only my presence is necessary."

Jim dropped his hands, taking a step closer and furrowing his brow. "Is something wrong?"

Spock closed his eyes, looking pained by answering that. "T'Pau has deemed it necessary I become engaged for political reasons."

"_WHAT?!_" Jim's voice must have gone up a couple octaves.

Spock winced at the volume in the enclosed space. "While it is not prudent that I be wed, an engagement would provide the image of stability within my family. Such stability would offer greater power in the decisions being made on the colony with so many families in precarious positions."

Jim snarled. "So that's it? She just, what, arranges for some girl to get engaged to you?"

Spock flinched a bit. "I would be fortunate if she chose a woman."

Jim imagined he was that interesting shade of pale violet. "W-what?"

Spock sent him a long suffering look. "I am a hybrid Jim. She has always been of the opinion that I was…genetically less than a pure Vulcan. With the population in the state it is, it would not be surprising if she chose my betrothed to be another man incapable of procreation."

Now Jim was flushed with anger. "Two birds with one stone eh? Fuck that bitch."

Spock blinked at him in surprise. "Jim…"

And it struck Jim like a wonderful, brilliant, stupid idea was won't to do. "Tell them we're dating."

"Pardon?"

"Come on Spock, I owe you one. You clearly don't want to be engaged. This isn't about you having kids, so my being a guy isn't a problem." Jim listed off the points like he were under fire. "You can explain our not actually being engaged away as needing to take it slow since I'm human. And you don't have to tell them when we 'break it off' until you're good and ready to get married. And hey, I'm the human captain who defeated Nero, how much better can you do politically? That was totally rhetorical so don't answer."

Spock didn't seem inclined to answer though, deep in thought. Jim bit his lip, thinking maybe he'd just overstepped some boundary and made Spock very uncomfortable.

"Our presence would still be required on New Vulcan. They would wish to asses the validity of our claim." Spock's ears were going green. "It would require…certain acts of intimacy…"

Jim blushed. "Like?"

Spock gracelessly extended two fingers towards Jim. "Vulcans kiss with their hands."

Jim mimicked the shaped of his hand, and hovered his fingers a few inches from Spock's. It suddenly felt as awkward as leaning into each others space, breathing each others air.

"Okay." Jim coughed uncomfortably, drawing his hand back. "Anything else?"

Spock folded his hands behind his back. "They will most likely desire to asses our mental compatibility. This will require a meld with a healer."

"I can handle that." Jim said quickly.

Spock nodded, and this time Jim saw him squirm. "Very well. If you are positive…"

"Hey, you saved my life." Jim smiled weakly. "It's the least I can do."

Spock nodded once, dubiously. "You need not do this because you feel indebted to me."

"Spock." Jim chided. "It's what friends do."

And that got the amused twitch of an eyebrow. Jim had the odd urge to brush his fingers over it. He shook his head, offering his hand in a kiss. His cheeks went red when Spock gave him a unique, inscrutable look.

"I figure we'd better get past it being awkward, or no one would believe us." Jim figured if he had to leave his hand there another second he was going to run away.

Spock spared him that, tentatively brushing their fingers together. And damned if it didn't make Jim all warm and tingly and weirdly relaxed. Spock, however, seemed to tense up and draw his hand back quickly. Jim flushed, biting his lip as he considered what he was about to do. Spock lifted an eyebrow at him and Jim decided to go for it. He leaned in quickly, brushing their lips together.

Spock froze on the spot. Jim couldn't help but notice how warm, and dry, and pleasantly firm his lips were for the split second they were touching. Jim was sure he was blushing fiercely when he pulled back.

"Uh…you know…because it might be necessary…" Because that didn't sound like a completely made up reason at all.

Spock didn't reply, at least, not verbally. He leaned down and closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together gently as he pushed their fingers together again. Neither of them really moved, making it far less of a kiss, and more of an awkward session in personal space management.

Comedic timing being what it is, the doors to the turbo lift chose to open at that moment.

Jim yelped, throwing himself away from Spock. Their combined blushes looked like Christmas come early. Much like the look on the little navigator's face. Chekov was practically beaming at them, eyes big and shining.

"Ah…ahem." Jim coughed awkwardly. "Excuse us."

Chekov continued to watch them, giddy and silent as they hurried past and he backed into the turbo lift. Jim stopped outside his room, realized how this must look, and darkened to the point where he was sure he was going to pass out from all the blood in his face. To his surprise, _Spock_ punched in the code to his room. They both entered silently.

"I apologize Captain. I should not have-"

"I started it." Jim interrupted. "I…shit, sorry. That was awkward. Aw hell. Chekov's going to go tell people."

Spock continued to stand stiffly in the middle of Jim's room. "If we are to…insinuate…a relationship between us for the deception of my family, the crew would become aware of it."

Jim nodded, and sat down hard on his bed. "Okay…okay. Get over here and give me a crash course on what I should know as your boyfriend."

Spock quirked an eyebrow.

"Seriously." Jim scowled. "I don't want to embarrass either of us by knowing next to nothing about your culture when supposedly we've been dating for a while now. Oh god. That's another detail we need to hash out, how long have we been dating? And how…uh…how _far_ have we gotten?"

He looked down at his hands in his lap, beet red. It would be really nice if he could stop blushing soon.

Spock took a seat next to him. "I believe it would be best to state the start of our romantic relationship as occurring one month, two weeks, and three days ago."

"One month, two week…? Oh." Jim's eyes widened as the date came back to him. "Just after the mission to Caelestis. We nearly lost Rodgers and I was in sickbay for two days. You…you spent the first night by my side until McCoy said I was stable."

Spock flushed at that. "I was merely determining that my assistance would not be necessary."

Jim's heart was trying to do some weird little acrobatic maneuver in his chest. "I must have been one shitty friend. I never once…"

"Do not blame yourself Jim." Spock told him calmly. "I would not have asked you to take time from your work when you could be of no assistance any time I was injured."

"It isn't about being useful in your healing." Jim sighed. "It's… it's about being there for people you care about, even if they are hurt…I…you're the first person, other than Bones, who ever stayed with me when I was hurt. And he's my doctor…"

"Jim, I-"

"Sorry. That probably came out really sappy." Jim laughed. "I'm just a little new to this whole friendship thing. But I know, no matter what, friends are supposed to be there for each other. And no matter what, I'm going to be sure I am for my crew…and for you."

"Thank you, Jim." Spock said sincerely, standing. "I must return to the bridge."

Jim nodded. "I'll be up soon. We'll figure this out."

Spock nodded and left, leaving Jim sitting on his bed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had a problem. There was no denying that.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**Damn. That was a long chapter for me. Maybe I should cut the next one down? I'm enjoying writing this, because I like to see where these two idiots take themselves. I probably won't go too deep into Jim's past (I've got other fics for that…) but plenty into the now and their awkward not-a-relationship. And it shall be deliciously awkward if I have any say in it. Which I do. Because I'm the author.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Still don't own Star Trek.**

**Putting this up early because I'm super excited I get to go see 'Into Darkness' this weekend. It's my reward for not injuring myself doing something stupid during finals this semester. Don't worry if you haven't seen it or won't see it yet. This has a plot so I won't be putting any spoilers in.**

**Enjoy.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

Bones had been less than thrilled when Jim explained what they were doing. Uhura pursed her lips in thought and then took his tutelage as a personal endeavor. He was grateful that she taught him a few words along with some of the more interesting facts. Neither of them expected him to remember the crop yield of a Vulcan colony twenty years ago.

Jim and Spock hadn't tried kissing again, and he was just grateful that they both performed well under pressure and that Vulcan society would prefer if they weren't intimate at most times.

Still, it was a few days at most to Vulcan and that wasn't nearly enough time to prepare. Jim was suddenly a little grateful for a lot of things, his apparent friendship with his crew being a large one. Trying to catch up on a whole year's worth of information wasn't exactly easy. He felt like he was cramming for a huge test for a class he hadn't even taken.

It wasn't much of a surprise, when the directions they got, as they orbited Vulcan, told them the crew was free to explore the facilities, but Spock's presence was needed.

Sarek was standing there waiting for him as they beamed down. "Captain Kirk. Your presence is not necessary."

Jim squirmed, not sure how to refute that when Spock 'subtly' brushed the backs of their hands together. "I believe you will find it is."

Sarek's eyes widened ever so slightly and his ears went green. "I see. We will discuss this with T'Pau."

Jim felt nervous, following his 'boyfriend' 's dad to talk to the head of his family about kindly fucking off and letting them have a relationship. He straightened up, approaching this as a Captain negotiating with foreign dignitaries over the safety and release of a crew member. It instilled an urgent confidence in him that clearly showed. The slightest twinge of amusement showed in Spock's eyes when Jim glanced over and he suspected he knew exactly what was his current method of bolstering himself.

T'Pau was old. Well, not just old, but she had gray hair. Up until now Jim had seen some pretty old Vulcans but Alternate Universe Spock was the only one who was truly gray. She immediately fixed her gaze on him, rather than Spock, the air around her tingeing with disparagement as her hawk like eyes roved over him.

"Explain his presence." Her old voice creaked, not even particularly harsh, almost like Jim couldn't be sure it happened it was so…indistinct.

"I decline your request to find a bond mate as I am currently pursuing James Kirk romantically." Spock announced, straight to the point.

Her eyebrow winged up, something Jim thought was a cultural trait, and she glanced between them. "The duration of your romantic involvement?"

"At present, one month, two weeks and six days."

She seemed to consider this a moment. "You did not inform me."

"I had not yet seen it necessary to do so as we are attempting to pursue a relationship in a traditionally Terran manner."

"Irrelevant." She looked closer at Jim. "We must assure this will not be a waste of time. You will submit to testing the voracity of your claim and the compatibility of your minds. Should you be found acceptable a preliminary bond will be instigated."

"How the hell is that your decision?" Jim snapped, feeling just a bit of panic.

She blinked at him. "If you do not desire a lasting relationship you should cease now."

"I…" Jim took a deep breath, regaining control. "With all due respect. You aren't human. I may want to have a lasting relationship, but it's been one month. That could change. No matter how much we care for each other, people fall out of love."

Spock was staring at him, noticing the slight strain to his voice and the odd way he phrased his protest. He understood that Jim had volunteered only to deceive them, not to be erroneously engaged. It would be prudent for them to 'break it off' and admit defeat. Not only would Jim not have to be connected to him, but it would effectively solve their dilemma of ending their false relationship aboard the Enterprise.

"I believe Jim is correct." Sarek voiced out. "You are aware of the difficulty I had in convincing my own human bond mate that a preliminary bond was in no way permanent or requiring something of her. Even when she did acquiesce, she was disappointed that we were forced to be engaged before be could 'date'."

Spock was doing the Vulcan equivalent of gaping at his father, having never heard about this before. Jim was trying not to squirm at being included in something so personal for a man that, until a little while ago, he thought rather hated him. T'Pau didn't look to like this information.

"James has no doubt been made aware of this bond and the relevancy of it."

Spock flushed green, having specifically _not_ mentioned the bond in hopes of avoiding it all together. Jim furrowed his brow, knowing Spock obviously never thought this would come up.

"I had not deemed it a necessary discussion at this point in our fledgling relationship." Spock looked like an admonished, embarrassed child and it made Jim incredibly uncomfortable.

"What exactly is this bond and why is it different than a marriage bond?" Jim asked, remembering a little something of the Vulcan information he was provided. "I get it's basically an engagement but…"

T'Pau leaned forward a little, looking a little green herself. "It is not a strong bond. However, if it is still in place by the time one customarily is wed, it will be replaced naturally with a marriage bond."

Jim felt his cheeks heat. So if he did, for what ever reason, go along with this charade that far he would have a metaphorical time bomb in his head until he was married.

"It can be broken, if the relationship becomes strained or is otherwise no longer acceptable." T'Pau added quickly at his struck look.

"Then why even have it?" Jim watched all three darken. "Why not just put the marriage bond in place when the time came or only put that in place when people finally got engaged?"

"Vulcan's are typically engaged at seven." Sarek sounded disappointed.

"I know _that_." Jim huffed. "What I want to know is why every relationship needs it. I mean, yeah it's illogical to enter a relationship that you don't intend to keep, but that's a lot of pressure."

"You have made your protest known." T'Pau stated. "And should you choose, by the end of your tests, that you do not desire to be bonded to him you may state as much and you will be free to leave. However, it is prudent that you accept these terms if you do indeed desire to pursue him. As must you accept our decision to terminate your relationship if you are found incompatible."

Jim's face was red, from anger at least. He had been trying to do something nice for a friend and here she was ruining everything. Furious, he grabbed Spock's hand, impropriety be damned, and dragged him out of the room. Spock had looked to be seconds away from admitting their deception and there was no way he was losing this fight.

"Jim." Spock croaked out and Jim remembered he really shouldn't be dragging him around like that.

"Sorry." Jim yanked his hand back, running it through his hair to have something to do with the hand. "I…Sorry. I just got…upset. Great. Now what?"

"I believe it prudent we cease this now. It will be simple enough for T'Pau to find me a bond mate."

Jim growled. "Hell no. I'm not letting her win. I'm not going to loose you."

That…didn't come out quite how he meant it. Fortunately, the quirked eyebrow seemed to be asking if he wanted a chance to rephrase that in a way that didn't sound quite so…romanticized. He hadn't meant it like that at all. Which was exactly what he was telling himself as he shook his head.

"You know what I mean."

"Jim." Spock almost got a reproachful tone under the blankness. "If we are to continue we will be bonded. At least in a preliminary, engagement bond."

"Your point?" Jim snarled, feeling far too annoyed to really focus on what he was saying or the fact that he wasn't thinking this through.

"Our minds would be linked. While I am capable of shielding it is not something to be done lightly."

"So you'd rather have this preliminary bond with some stranger than me?" Jim hissed, feeling like he was loosing negotiations. "Is my mind that horrifying to you? Fuck. What the hell am I doing here?"

"Jim." Spock sounded awestruck, guilty even.

Jim realized he was ranting, using a kind of intensity he reserved for particularly tense situations. He sincerely doubted that anyone had seen him this emotional since the Nero incident. Even in negotiations he managed to maintained a sense of professionalism. But this, this was tinged with a weird sense of pride and conviction, like he once used to face down Pike and Spock. He'd lost, both times, but that wasn't a consideration he was in any condition to make.

"This is about you, not me." Jim sighed, avoiding looking at him. "It isn't even my business. That you even told me…What ever you want to do, I'll back you here."

"I…thank you." Spock nodded once and turned to head back into the room, Jim trailing after trying not to look like someone had just stomped on his Enterprise figurine.

T'Pau and Sarek both raised their eyebrows, watching Jim take a respectably distant place at Spock's side. "Do you submit to the testing?"

"We do." Spock told her, and Jim took a deep, nervous breath.

"And the bonding?"

"We have not yet decided."

"Very well." T'Pau nodded. "You will meet with healers tomorrow to assess your compatibility. You are dismissed until such time."

… .. . .. …

If Jim had thought people were eager to share things with him before, he had been entirely wrong. A few welcome smiles along with their names in greeting and people were jumping to tell him everything. Especially all the fun facts they were learning in the colony. One excited ensign came running up with a Vulcan in tow, practically rambling about something said Vulcan had been in the process of telling him. Jim smiled at his eagerness when the Vulcan had to take over to _finish_ explaining.

Oh, sure, his day had been tinged with the fact that tomorrow a Vulcan would be digging around in his head and measuring his reactions to Spock. It occurred to him he had no idea just how deep this was supposed to go. Were they going to be poking around shallowly to see if their minds were on a similar wavelength, or were they going to be diving through a litany of bedroom scenes no one needed to see? Damn. It occurred to him he should have really asked.

That night proved entirely too difficult to shut down his brain. It had happened before, in the year of his command, so he was no stranger to it. Usually, he sat down and did paperwork, or filled out and number of reports. But he'd covered all of that during shore leave. He honestly had nothing to do, a thought that stressed him even more.

His thoughts turned to the past year. He'd been avoiding it in favor of work, for the most part. Now, he let the memories wash over him, consuming every thought, drowning out everything else. He promised to stop after just an hour.

He looked at the chronograph when his door chime sounded, some time later, and cursed. So much for sleep. It didn't really matter, though, as he felt more refreshed than he had in months. He called for who ever was on the other side of the door to wait a minute and threw on fresh clothes.

"Yeah?" Jim opened the door and was immediately surprised to find Spock standing there.

"I had come to see if you would be amendable to conversing over breakfast." Spock raised an eyebrow, looking him over.

Jim wasn't sure what he was seeing that made his eyes spark with confusion. "Sounds great."

"Indeed." Spock furrowed his brow ever so slightly and looked like he wanted to ask something, but refrained, stepping out of the doorway to allow Jim to exit his room.

Jim followed him out, trying to ignore the sudden nerves settling into his stomach. They didn't speak as they made their way to a morning meal. A couple of the younger crew members' faces met the walls as they tried to subtly watch them and walk through the ship at the same time. Jim did his best to ignore the staring, but it wasn't exactly easy.

When they had both gotten their meals and sequestered themselves in a private corner, the crew was much more inclined to give them their privacy. Jim tried not to think about what that meant.

"I do not suspect this will be a particularly in depth investigation." Spock started, sounding awkward. "The healers will most likely assess our compatibility and nothing more. To invade your personal thoughts or memories would be reprehensible. However, they will likely conduct an interview. I am unsure what they will ask."

Jim nodded, feeling a little better for knowing this wouldn't be expansive. "So we should probably stick to the truth for the most part. Is there…anything in particular I should know?"

Spock shook his head. "I do not believe there is anything at this juncture that you should know."

Jim blinked. "At this juncture?"

Spock darkened, a mint blush that Jim really was starting to hate. "Were we in a…viable…romantic relationship…I would be inclined to share certain details with you at a later point. However, we have only been together one month, two weeks, and seven days."

Jim nodded in understanding, feeling his own blush creeping up again. "Right. Obviously. I mean, of course. If we…if this works…well…I mean…It's _your_ head…so…"

Spock fortunately realized what he was asking and, somewhat embarrassed, answered. "A bond is not so simple. It is true, you would likely not feel the bond as…profoundly as I would. However in moments of extreme emotionalism or…lack of control…strong emotions and thoughts may…bleed through the bond."

Jim scratched at the back of his hand, avoiding eye contact. "I can see why you wouldn't want to be bonded to me. I'm kind of always emotional."

Spock jolted. It was more of a straightening than a jolt, but this time Jim didn't miss it. Spock seemed at a loss for words. Jim wondered if maybe he hadn't thought of that, because that was not the reaction he had been expecting.

"_Jim_." The emphasis Spock put on his name sent a curl of heat through him that made his whole body want to twist away from it in embarrassment. "It is not…I am capable of shielding your general emotions. Jim, it is…it is not entirely true that Vulcans do not feel."

"Could have fooled me." Jim deadpanned, obviously thinking of his emotional outburst during the Nero incident.

Spock quirked an eyebrow, but continued. "We strive to control our emotions, but the depth of those emotions we control…a bond is formed below one's shields, Jim. To block emotions, from both sides, would take a specific effort."

"I can't do that." Jim shook his head. "So in the end it goes back to you. Is this effort…is all of this worth it? We're not…All this gets you is out of…well you know. Is it worth it?"

Spock was silent for a long time, genuinely considering it. "I will admit, I would likely spend the majority of my time bonded with another shielding from them or outside of any range to feel my connection to them. The act of shielding would not be of any significance. However…the connection is. There are…reasons why Vulcans are bonded."

Jim noticed the way Spock's blush was darkening and stood. "I get the feeling this isn't a discussion for right here. Come on."

Spock nodded, standing. His blush receded some, but the green apples high in his cheeks refused to fade. Jim was trying desperately to ignore it, because it was making his own cheeks burn. Fewer people slammed into walls, having things to actually do now that the day was in at least a partial swing. Jim invited Spock back into his room, and that curious look had crept back into his eyes. Awkwardly, Jim waved his hand for him to sit somewhere.

"So…Vulcans need to be bonded to someone?" Jim understood this was an intrinsically awkward conversation, and approached it with his best captain's voice, trying to make it impersonal and informative.

That didn't stop Spock from being very tense. "Bonds serve several purposes…a Vulcan with no bonds will slowly be driven to insanity. The mind is not designed to be entirely alone. Also…"

"Yeah." Jim asked in his best disinterested tone, almost to the point that it wasn't a question.

"Are you aware to the mating habits of the female Mustela _eversmanni_?" Spock looked a bit…well, red Jim supposed.

"Yes." Jim said timidly, trying to understand how that connected to the previous discussion.

"There is a…_similar_…biological function in Vulcans when they reach adulthood." Spock lapsed into silence, hoping that explained enough.

Jim paused, connecting this information with the conversation the previous day. The engagement bond would be naturally replaced with a marriage bond because…oh. Jim flushed considerably and the only way that counted as a win for Spock was because he didn't have to say it out loud.

Jim was silently wondering how the hell he got into all this, because he was damned sure none of the other times he went drinking had resulted in him becoming fake engaged with the chance of real, awkward gay sex with his first officer being the result. What struck Jim the most from that sentence was the fact that his mind had somehow decided it was already set and they were engaged. He didn't…damn it. Apparently he did randomly get engaged to his first officer. The question was:

"How are we going to keep _this_ from the crew when we need to get the thing dissolved?"

Spock seemed genuinely interested in the turn Jim's mind had taken. "I do not presume that would be a problem. However, I am…uncomfortable with placing you in such a precarious position, should the bond not be resolved sooner than that." Jim's eyes widened and Spock hurried to explain. "While I would of course attempt to remedy this matter long before it became of importance…there have been known to be occurrences where it is not so easily predicted. On occasion certain reactions have triggered the chemical imbalance."

Jim nodded, because he was far too far gone to freak out. "But it probably won't be an issue. Besides, we've figured out worse before."

Spock winged up an eyebrow, looking much less green by the minute. "Do you still wish to do this?"

Jim nodded sheepishly. "If you want to. Remember this is for you, not me."

Spock nodded once. "Very well. Presuming they will allow it…I would prefer to be engaged to you, even if it is a ruse, than to enter into an unwilling romantic relationship with a stranger."

Jim smiled tightly. "Well what are we waiting for? Let's convince those jerks they're messing with the wrong command team."

… .. . .. …

Jim would have never thought he would have reason to think this, but he was grateful for the time spent brainstorming how to break up his and Spock's fake relationship because it gave him a good idea of how to answer questions to keep it going. Being a smart guy, he remembered a lot about that conversation, and was able to feed responses to inane questions about Spock from there.

"What about your emotional needs as a human?" The Vulcan interviewer pressed.

Jim hissed. "Hey. I'm a guy. Don't say the 'E' word, alright?"

She nodded, seeming to accept that as a genuine answer. "How long have you been in a relationship?"

Jim groaned. "One month. Two weeks. Seven days. The only way that has changed from last time was the number of days. Technically it was the number of hours. You want the exact number on those, talk to Spock. I can't remember details like that as well as he can."

She seemed to regard him like a cockroach for a moment before taking a note. "Has your relationship ever become sexual in nature?"

Jim flushed. "What! What the hell kind of question is that? That's none of your-oh my god. Wow. No. We're waiting, thank you very much."

She raised both eyebrows at him, before taking a note. "Have you ever considered cheating on him?"

"No!" It took Jim a moment to realize just how truthful his statement was, yes because you couldn't cheat on someone you weren't dating, but hadn't he told Bones as much previously?

His answer got a pause out of her, before she nodded. "Would you give up your ship?"

Jim froze. The question sounded genuine, unlike the others, like she were asking out of personal curiosity. It was almost timid, and it struck a chord. His ship. His _ship_. The Enterprise…for Spock. And what did that mean? Was he supposed to consider giving up his captaincy? Or just the Enterprise? Giving up the ship, or the crew? The crew was the ship. Yes, the ship was something…something more than just metal and wires and software. But…but what was she without the crew? What was he being asked to give up, in the long run?

Was she asking literally about the ship? Just the ship? Would he and the rest of the crew be able to have another one at the end of this scenario in her head? Or are lives at stake? Or his captaincy? The Enterprise wasn't the Enterprise without her crew. Even from his self-imposed cage Jim could see that. But that included Spock. Jim couldn't imagine the Enterprise without Spock. And it would hurt, but one ship? His crew could make a new home for themselves, aboard a new ship, because home wasn't the walls around you. But without Spock?

"That's a loaded question." Jim told her softly, and she nodded, but didn't take any notes. "When is one of you going to shove their mental fingers through my brain so you can figure out that you don't have a right to keep me and Spock from each other?"

She stood, eyebrows minutely closer together than before. "I will send in the healer. You may speak with…Spock…after this. You will be alerted when you are needed again after that."

Jim stuck his tongue out at the door after she left, feeling maliciously childish. That question had shaken him. Of all the impersonal, ridiculous questions, that was the one to make him consider his attachment to Spock. He quickly squashed any considerations, because he refused to even begin to wonder about what Spock was worth to him. That would lead down a road that was awkward and would bring him back to the stupid surprise friendship.

An older, though only slightly salted Vulcan entered the room, his robes a little too long and dragging on the floor. They were wrinkled a little more than they should be, almost like they had been slept in. His hair was in disarray and looked desperately in need of a trim, being almost shaggy. Jim was stunned. He'd never seen an unkempt Vulcan before. It immediately made him like him just a little bit.

"I will need access to your meld points." He said with no lead in.

"Well hello to you too." Jim frowned.

He glanced up. "My apologies. Good morning Mr. Kirk. You appear to be well. Are there any questions you have for me?"

"Yeah. Why exactly do I need you poking around in my head to tell me I can be with Spock?"

"Ah." He sat down in the other chair and Jim could swear he almost saw a smile. "My people often forget that they have refused to share much information about themselves, while simultaneously expecting outsiders to understand perfectly when they are forced into such situations. Did you know, Mr. Kirk, that a mind meld can be highly dangerous?"

"It can?" That _was_ news.

"Indeed. If any number of factors are…off…so to speak in the participant's brains, permanent damage can be done. It is unlikely, as there must be large discrepancies to do harm in the normally short period of contact between minds engaged in a meld." He noted the somewhat horrified look on Jim's face. "Healers are specifically selected and trained due to having rather inoffensive minds."

"Okay…what does that have to do with me and Spock?"

"A bond is rather similar to one long, continuous meld. In this, smaller discrepancies can prove harmful."

"So it's like getting a kidney." Jim furrowed his brow. "How can you tell if we're a match?"

"I have just familiarized myself with the structure of Spock's brain. I will now compare yours to it, if you are willing."

"Yeah, okay." Jim grumbled a little as the Vulcan wheeled his chair closer, just like a real, slightly creepy doctor. "But if you fry my brain I'm going to hate you as much as my veggie-brain possibly can."

"I can assure you that doing such would make me considerably unhappy."

Jim was convinced the man had worked with humans regularly, because he was being awfully friendly for a Vulcan. He was careful not to touch Jim except for the very tips of his fingers on Jim's meld points. It was a familiar feeling, but nothing else accompanied it. The healer pulled his hand back, a curious look in his eyes.

"Aren't you going to do it?" Jim asked, confused.

"Ah, forgive me, you were expecting no doubt the most common description of a meld. No, that will not be necessary. I needed only the briefest examination. If you would come with me to a common room where I may see everyone pertinent, we will discuss this." He stood, still looking strangely at Jim.

He nodded, standing up and following him. The room he led him to was functional at best and remotely unwelcoming at its worst. He supposed ideas of comfort differed from planet to planet. Sarek and T'Pau were already seated in the room. Gingerly, Jim took a seat to the far side. The healer mentioned something about going to see how much longer Spock would be with questioning and bid a hasty retreat.

Some might say he was being paranoid, but he was sure T'Pau was trying to kill him with that icy stare of hers. Spock entered the room shortly with the doctor and the woman who had asked them questions. She muttered something quickly in the healer's ear and left. Spock took a seat next to Jim, and very suddenly this seemed an awful lot more pertinent than it had just a minute ago.

The healer sat down primly, looking much less friendly in the presence of other Vulcans. "In regards to the questions posed about your relationship, you show no signs of duplicity. The few discrepancies made by Mr. Kirk are well within the normal range for an average human of his age and stress level. As for your mental compatibility and the sustainability of a bond, I would highly recommend it."

That seemed to shock the Vulcan's present, even Spock, so Jim acted like this was huge news to him as well. "The wavelength, amplitude, and polarization are extremely close, but more importantly, they are also in tune, rather then perfect refractions. Indeed, if I were presented only with your brains, I would suspect you of being monozygotic, rather than completely differing species. In light of this, I find you not only compatible, but would highly recommend at the very least a basic familial bond being implemented to offer stability."

That Jim understood, and found himself staring at Spock, who seemed at an utter loss for what to say. The healer continued, informing them that he could perform the preliminary bonding if that was what they wanted and he would give them some time to consider it. The room was utterly silent after he left for a minute until _T'Pau_ offered them a moment and prompted Sarek to follow her out.

"So…" Jim finally said after the door had been closed and they had been alone for a minute. "Are you regretting saving my drunk ass from an angry bird-bat yet?"

Spock blinked at him sharply, which was odd to say the least. "I do not believe I have heard you speak so informally in some time."

Jim scowled. "Shut up. I'm tired of talking about that. Are we getting engaged or what?"

"You are sure you wish to do this?" Spock allowed for the subject change. "You have no requirement to do so."

"Of course I don't. I wouldn't do it if I _had_ to…well, okay. _Maybe_ I would but it'd have to be for an awfully good reason." Jim stopped, centering himself and giving Spock a wry look. "I already told you I'm fine."

"Very well…is there anything you wish to ask, before we do so?"

"Why did you make it sound so doom and gloom when he barely even touched my brain. Weren't you engaged once? I mean, you were seven."

"I do not wish to discuss my previous engagement." Spock sounded…bitter. "The process is more in depth for children as their minds are still developing."

"Oh." Jim wisely didn't ask about the tone he took. "So…uh…I guess this is it. I'll try to keep my thoughts to my self."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, well, I can't shield or anything but-" Jim paused when Spock raised a hand to stop him.

"I was thanking you for your assistance."

"Oh. Okay. We should probably get everyone back in here."

Spock requested they come back into the room and returned to his seat by Jim. Everyone sat very still for a moment, waiting to hear what they had to say. Jim noticed, with something akin to concern, that Sarek was staring at him with a strange look. Highly strange, in part because there was a look there at all. Jim couldn't quite identify it, but if pressed he would describe it somewhere between loathing, anger, and ardor. It was just weird.

"We have agreed to the preliminary bonding." Spock informed them.

Jim could swear T'Pau's eyes lit up. Which was just weird both on principal and to see. The healer was all business at that point, leaving the room to go collect paperwork. Jim had not been aware there was paperwork. Paperwork made him highly nervous, because paperwork could be filed and documented and paperwork could absolutely ruin him if something went wrong. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that Spock wasn't like that. He squashed the betrayers voice, whispering that he couldn't really know because he'd spent the last year trying not to, by reminding it that Spock had lied to save his life.

The paperwork was fairly standard. Name, date, duration of relationship before preliminary bonding, nature of relationship, nature of bond being created, general agreements involving the dissolution of the bond, general agreements regarding something called koon-ut-kal-if-fee if he was pronouncing those weird characters right (which Jim suspected was that whole time-bomb anyway by the way they tried to gloss over it), and the like. Still, Jim was more giddy than any time he'd done ambassador work, though less happy, for certain.

"Very well." The healer announced when the paperwork was filed, both Sarek and T'Pau acting as witnesses. "I shall create the bond, then."

He placed both hands on Spock's meld points. Jim felt nervous as slowly, eyes half-lidded, he removed one hand from Spock's meld points and placed it on Jim's. Immediately, Jim could feel a strange humming sensation, almost burning. Jim was distracted by this sensation, and didn't notice the healer's other hand coming over to joining the first until it had settled onto his meld points. He gave a sharp gasp as he was met with a searing sensation behind his eyes and the curious feeling similar to the adrenaline rush he received doing something incredibly stupid.

The man removed his hands and the fear that usually accompanied his adrenaline rushes was all that was left behind. Jim felt a horrified panic, like something wasn't right. On instinct, he reached out, and was met by Spock's hands reaching back.

"Be calm Jim. Be calm." Spock whispered, sounding a little shaken himself. "I am here."

He was, making Jim feel instantly better. "W-what the hell?"

"Forgive me, I should have warned you both." Sarek spoke softly. "Humans participating in an engagement bond do not experience it in the same manner as Vulcans. As they lack the telepathic abilities of our kind, they may initially feel as though the bond is a hole, of sorts, in which something is missing. It takes time for the human mind to acclimate itself to the bond, something that may be aided by repeated mental contact. With time...or a full marriage bond, it will be far easier. Until this time, you may wish to form a partial shield, to reduce the effect."

Jim blinked at him, realizing after a moment he was speaking from experience. "Would have been nice to know that a little sooner."

Spock ignored that statement. "I will adjust my shield to accommodate this."

"_I_ would have liked to know this information." The healer almost sounded snippy.

"We are grateful of your service." T'Pau said scathingly. "We will show ourselves out."

He took the hint in the slight tone of voice she used and left. Jim coughed, drawing his hands back in embarrassment. The instant panic and feeling he could only describe as loss had passed. Now he realized how he'd basically been clinging to Spock and doing the Vulcan equivalent of a very long and steamy kiss. That hadn't been what he meant to do, but he had desperately needed the contact.

Spock seemed completely unembarrassed by the little act of impropriety. Maybe it was nothing to be embarrassed by, because it wasn't actually anyone's fault. Jim was perfectly keen to think he hadn't actually made a fool of himself in front of Sarek and a Vulcan ambassador that was one of the most important people in the universe at the moment. He wasn't stupid enough to believe he hadn't committed a social gaffe, but as long as they didn't mention it, he was going to keep pretending.

"Congratulations." T'Pau told them with a light dip of her head. "May your relationship be successful."

"I would request that you refrain from speaking publicly on this matter until later in our relationship." Spock told her. "I am aware you wish to use my engagement as a political device, however, it is a personal matter first. I have little doubt that you would not infringe upon my privacy."

This last statement was made with the kind of finality that meant ill towards her if she did. She waited for a moment before inclining her head in acquiescence. Jim felt like he was standing in the middle of two warring parties trying to negotiate a treaty between them in order to get his crew off the planet alive. It was a rather familiar feeling.

The tension dissipated quickly, though, and they all stood to leave. T'Pau was quick to exit, spry for such an old woman. Spock walked a ways from the room, scowling after her. Jim placed a hand over his chest, as though it could possibly slow down his racing pulse.

"I will confess to misgivings about your relationship with my son."

Jim jerked to look at Sarek, refraining from a manly yelp by the bare minimum. "O-oh?"

Sarek looked him over with that same strange look. "My son lost much. I agreed only to T'Pau's suggestion that Spock become engaged because I believed it would be best for him to have someone to stabilize him. It is my sincerest hope that you are capable of doing so, Mr. Kirk."

Jim drew up short, grabbing his upper arm. "Excuse me? Spock is perfectly stable. I'm not sure I appreciate what you're implying."

Sarek glanced down at his hand before boring holes into his eyes. "You misunderstand. I fear for my son's mental well being. The loss of his familial bond to his mother was...drastic. I myself had to spend considerable time with a healer after my loss. Spock has not. His bond with you may make meditation and shielding easier."

Jim furrowed his brow, releasing him. "He seems fine to me."

"He is...for now." Sarek glanced over at Spock, who was fielding a question from someone who had approached him. "Maintaining a relationship with someone whom he is familiar and comfortable with and may see on a regular basis will undoubtedly serve a therapeutic purpose. More importantly...it may serve to remind him that love is not for humans alone."

Jim found himself gawking as Sarek hurried to his son's side just as he was finishing his explanation. His timing was exceptional. Jim could hardly believe he'd just had that conversation. It wasn't the usual run in he had with parents, for certain, but it was also distinctly similar to how someone might possibly wish them well. Sarek mentioned something to Spock as Jim approached and left quickly before Jim could catch up.

"So." Jim scuffed his shoe on the ground, causing it to squeak loudly as they headed for the exit.

"Indeed."

"Are you...uh...shielding?"

"I am. Most likely, it will take some time to perfect the necessary shielding, but I should be capable of...mitigating the sense of loss you feel in association with our bond." Spock didn't look at him as he spoke, which Jim was beginning to suspect was a sign of embarrassment.

"Uh...Sorry about that back there." Jim winced. "You know. Touching you like that."

Spock did look at him now, one eyebrow raised in question. "You acted in no way improperly, Jim. Your reaction was based entirely on instinct. To fault you for such would be greatly inappropriate."

Jim shrugged, not really feeling better for it. "Yeah. Okay."

"If it is acceptable, I wish to spend my lunch in the labs here." Spock told him. "I am curious as to the projects currently being tended to on the planet."

Jim nodded. "Of course. I'd love to hear about it later."

Spock stopped, cocking his head to the side and giving him a very restrained, but disappointed look. Jim paused, taking it in and trying to understand what he just did to earn it. It hit him, after a second, that he'd just given a captain's answer. It was another of those regurgitated flat responses he'd been giving for a year. It really struck him when he realized Spock had never taken the time to tell him about things whenever he told him that.

"I didn't mean it like that." Jim sounded horrified to his own ears. "I've just had a long and emotionally draining day, I spent all of yesterday having kids from my ship drag Vulcans over to explain projects to me, and I hadn't realize how very hungry I am until you said the word lunch."

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "Indeed. I will spare you the details of the experiments, then..."

Jim realized he was using a very specific tone and frowned. "What? Did I do something? Or...you don't trust me alone do you?"

"That is not the case."

"Then what is? Because you're staring at me like I did something."

"I am not." If it wasn't delivered so flatly, he'd have thought it was almost immature.

"Spock." Jim found himself growling. "I can't read your mind."

Spock blinked once, mouth twitching for a split second like he weren't sure what to do with it. "I was discussing lunch plans not with my superior officer, but with my fiancé."

Jim scowled in confusion, before turning five different shades of red. "You don't have to eat lunch with me."

"Of course." Spock tilted his head ever so slightly. "I would not do so if it were a requirement."

Jim lost the battle to his smile, shaking his head a little. "Yeah. Okay. That said, we aren't, really. So...yeah. You don't have to make plans around me. Just do what you want, you know?"

"Very well." Spock nodded once and then left.

Jim sighed. If he though he was in over his head before, someone had started throwing dirt back into the hole he had dug for himself while he was still at the bottom. His stomach rumbled and he started off towards the project of getting food. Maybe if he wasn't thinking on an empty stomach, he could figure out what to do about this mess he had gotten himself into.

… .. . .. …

"You are engaged to Spock."

Jim snapped his head up, staring at the Vulcan man who was looming over his table. "Excuse me?"

"You are engaged to Spock." He repeated himself. "Are you not?"

"Do I have some sort of sign on me?" Jim twisted to see if anyone had taped something to his back.

"You do not." He sounded very stiff, gratingly so.

Jim tried not to scowl at him. "Alright. How did you find out?"

"I was made aware that Spock was pursuing a relationship with a shipmate. You are the most logical choice politically." He paused for a moment. "Also, I saw you at the medical center with a healer. The only reason for such would be to receive a bond."

Now Jim scowled, and it was a lovely one. "Creepy stalking aside, who told you about Spock?"

"I was in consideration to be his bondmate, therefor it was logical to inform me that he and I were no longer to discuss the matter." It was possible, just possible, that he heard a note of bitterness.

"Uh huh." Jim frowned. "Why me? Why not one of the many lovely young women on my ship? Not a single girl in my science department, and several in medical, wouldn't jump on the chance to date him."

He had only realized this recently, what with not paying attention before, but that didn't make it any less true. To whit, he was somewhat surprised to find that all those regretful people on his ship were very respectful of their decision to be in a relationship. One lovely girl, Chapel, was quick to explain that she _knew_ when they got together, she had just been hoping she was wrong.

The Vulcan man seemed to be considering his statement carefully. "He would not further water down Vulcan blood."

Jim felt a flash of anger at that. "Listen you son of a bitch. Spock is the best person I know and fuck you very much if you think for even a minute he's worth less than you because of his mixed race."

The man's eyes had widened fractionally, so small the only real distinction was the thin line in his forehead from his eyebrows raising as well. "You misunderstand. I was speaking in terms of the prejudice he has faced and his desire not to inflict such on a child of his own. Spock is highly valuable, more so than you."

Jim stood. "Excuse me?"

"Spock is a fascinating and beautiful creature." The smugness just below his voice was starting to piss Kirk off. "He is fully unique and poses the rare ability to help us further understand our species. Further he is an intellectual without regular comparison. You are merely a man in possession of a set of skills necessary to take advantage of chance and probability. Including the chance that, after such a devastating loss as Spock has faced, he would seek a relationship to comfort and stabilize himself."

Jim felt a familiar stab of pain at that. "I'm not just some temporary solution to a problem you ass."

The Vulcan folded his arms behind his back. "No. Indeed. It is regrettable that he will likely settle for you as he is unaware he has superior options."

Jim gritted his teeth, reigning in his anger. "Fine. You're jealous. I don't care."

… .. . .. …

Spock looked up from an experiment he was inspecting to see his father. He was just watching him. After a good minute of staring, Sarek approached, nodding politely to him.

"Father." Spock moved away from the experiment, holding his hands at his back.

"Spock." Sarek lifted his hand in greeting. "It is good to see you well."

"Indeed. You as well." Spock glanced sideways at the room of experiments. "Is there something you are in need of?"

"I simply wish to speak with you." Sarek informed him. "It has been 7.862 months without our engaging in correspondence."

Spock didn't feel particularly guilty at that. "What do you wish to discuss?"

"You are displeased." Sarek noted. "I wish only to familiarize myself with your life since the time of our last discussion."

"I am not displeased, father. However, I am aware that you are disappointed in me for not informing you of my relationship with James Kirk and will no doubt lecture me for my actions." Spock started walking to another experiment. "I do not wish to discuss this. I am certain in my decision and-"

"You misunderstand me, Spock." Sarek followed him, sparing only a slight glance for the experiment. "I understand that one is not always capable of deciding who they make a connection with. I do not understand your attraction to Captain Kirk. I have, however experienced such a thing myself and faced a great deal of opposition in my decision."

Spock pointedly didn't look at him. Both the allusion to his mother and the combination of his lies made him highly uncomfortable.

"I wish the best for you and Captain Kirk."

Spock gasped. "Jim."

"Yes, Ji-"

"Father. Something is wrong." Spock looked at him, clear panic in his eyes. "I...I must find Jim."

Sarek made no question of his insistence. "Remove the shielding. The bond will aid you in finding him."

Spock hesitated only a moment before he was out of the room, racing off. His father kept step with him, something he was surprised by. It wasn't long until he found exactly where Jim was. The crowd of curious onlookers was a dead giveaway.

In the middle of the room, Jim was panting heavily through his mouth, blood pouring from his nose at a reasonable rate. A bruise was already forming around his eye. The Vulcan across from him looked better, technically, but was in terrible condition for a Vulcan. He was heavily favoring his right leg, his hair was in disarray, and his teeth were stained green from something in his mouth bleeding.

Spock raced forward as he lunged at Jim. Jim stumbled back in surprise, both at the attack and the sudden presence of his first officer. Spock grabbed the Vulcan man by the throat, lifting him. It was a surprisingly familiar scene for Jim, having Spock come to his aid in a fight. He was beginning to think he needed more skills then just what he learned in bars and the academy.

Jim coughed up a bit of blood running down the back of his throat and rasped. "Thanks."

Spock glanced back at him, eying his broken nose. "You have injured my captain."

The man struggle a bit, but quieted down at the stern look he received, settling instead for croaking out a response. "Forgive my first impression. Your _captain_ instigated the fight."

"That is likely." Spock agreed. "However, I am ending it."

"Hey!" Jim yelped, glancing up from where he was trying to stop his nosebleed. "This prick attacked me because he's petty and jealous."

The man bristled. "I am not."

"Jealous?" Spock raised an eyebrow. "Of what?"

"Nothing. I am not-"

"That I get to have you and he doesn't." It occurred to Jim, a beat later, that he had just said that in front of quite a few people.

Spock snapped his head back, growling. "I could forgive you fighting him as my captain, but as my _fianc__é_? Do not touch what is not yours."

Jim snorted, splattering more blood on his shirt. "I'm not the one he wants to touch."

Spock released the man, turning to him with his eyebrows furrowed. "Did you antagonize him out of jealousy?"

Jim flushed a little, hiding it by wiping his nose with his arm. "No. I just...he was being an asshole. I called him on it...He didn't like being called jealous. _I_ didn't do anything."

"It is apparent that we must have a discussion." Spock glanced at the man one last time, effectively dismissing him.

Jim swayed a bit. "Could you...uh...you know...shield?"

Spock's eyes flew open wide and he realized he _had_ left his shields down for their discussion. Sarek was quick to get the crowd to disperse as Spock lead Jim out of the room. He followed after at a distance, in case his presence proved necessary. Spock hovered a hand over Jim's back, ready to direct him somewhere if he needed to.

Jim slumped against the wall. "My head hurts."

"That is likely." Spock looked him over. "This will necessitate a call to Doctor McCoy."

Jim bristled. "I had been doing fine until I was hit with a panic attack because I wasn't touching _you_."

Spock flinched, looking at him with wide eyes. "Jim...I..."

Jim flushed, looking away. "Spock, I can't handle that. If you drop the shield every time something goes wrong...I know you were just doing it to protect me but you have got to trust me a little more."

Spock looked abashed. "I am unaccustomed to the emotions that are attached to being bonded. I have not yet learned how to control them. I am sorry for my transgression."

"Spock..." Jim reached up to cup his face with his hand. "We'll figure this out."

Sarek coughed. "Perhaps this discussion would be better held in a private room."

Jim turned scarlet when he realized what he was doing with his hand. He didn't do that to girls, and he had on good authority that it was a very effective gesture. When did he suddenly want to start touching his first officer?

_'When I got bonded to him.'_ Jim reminded himself bitterly.

"What I need," Jim said to no one in particular, "is a fighting lesson."

"Then I shall endeavor to provide you with such, with the understanding that you will use discretion in most situations, rather than violence." Spock put his hands at his back.

Jim glared. "Hey! I don't always resort to violence. I'm perfectly diplomatic."

Sarek and Spock both raised their eyebrows at him. Jim flushed and started off, pissed more at himself than anything else. Spock hadn't wanted everyone to know about the engagement, and he'd completely blown that. Spock had trusted him to stay out of trouble, and he couldn't do that either. He couldn't even claim that he had tried, because his immediate reaction to the other man was to antagonize him. He had no reason to be affronted. The fact of the matter was Spock wouldn't have chosen him. Spock _didn't_ want him. He didn't even know the other man...

He might have resented it at first, but Spock had resented Jim at first too. Maybe this other person could have provided him something Jim was incapable of. Some form of understanding or some connection Jim could never give. Maybe he would have found someone that he didn't just tolerate, but could love. Not necessarily be in love with, he suspected that the incompatible sexual orientation didn't refer just to his preferences but Spock's as well, but someone that he would share a deeper understanding with. Maybe whoever Spock would have been bonded to could have been someone that would have enriched his life.

Maybe he was settling for using his bond with Jim as an excuse because he _didn't_ know he had 'superior options'.

"Jim." Spock set his hand on Jim's shoulder, stopping him.

Jim looked around, realizing two very important things: he had no idea where he was, and his vision was blurry. This first fact was likely because he had stormed off without any direction and wasn't even paying attention. The second was because...well, it was because he was crying.

"Spock." Jim hiccuped, and what kind of fierce, distant captain cried?

Spock hesitated, before reaching up to gently brush a tear from Jim's cheekbone. "Have I upset you?"

Jim shook his head, hiccuping again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Spock..."

"What reason do you have to be sorry, Jim?" Spock tucked his hands behind his back, because the tips of his fingers were numb with the depth of guilt and sorrow they had touched in Jim's face. It had alarmed him and he didn't know how to assuage those emotions.

"You could have been happy. You can be happy, but instead you're not." Jim rubbed furiously at his eyes, wishing he looked more like a grown man and less like a kid. "You could be happy but you're with me now and I'm just tying you down and I'm sorry."

"Jim? I do not understand."

Jim shook his head, wishing he could make it clearer, but tripping over his own words. "You don't want to be with me. But you won't get the chance to be around anyone if you're pretending to be with me."

Spock didn't quite understand how Jim had come to be on this topic, or why he was so insistent that he should do nothing to stand in the way of Spock's happiness, even tangentially, but he understood that this was the cause of Jim's distress. Perhaps it was something from the altercation that morning, but Jim felt now that his decision had been wrong.

"Jim..." Spock hesitated. "I do not understand your concern. I do not feel that you have done any such thing. "

Jim scrubbed at his eyes. "I'm sorry. Jeez. I'm sorry. I've been getting all weird lately."

Spock's eyes brightened almost imperceptibly. "I believe I understand now what is the problem. If we could retire to our rooms, I believe I may have a solution."

Jim nodded, following him wearily. He knew something was wrong, and Spock had just confirmed that. Jim had better control of his emotions. Jim had better control of himself. He felt so detached, though, suddenly. His emotions seemed rampant, but like their own living thing, taking up residence in his skull. He felt almost tired as Spock let him into his room.

They had been given their own rooms, for this little political fiasco, because they were expected to stay planet-side for the duration of Spock's awkward summons.

Jim couldn't tell anyone what his room looked like. He'd gone back up to the ship and been there all night, rather than stay on the planet. From what he understood, Spock had done much the same. Apparently he had no desire to be down there.

The room was relatively sparse. A stiff bed, a carpet of some kind, a table in a corner with an incense burner, Jim figured there were more things, but he couldn't really notice them. Spock had taken a seat on the bed, directing Jim to do the same wordlessly.

"So what's wrong with me?"

"I had informed you previously that the bond is placed below any shields." Spock shifted so that he was sitting cross legged on the bed. "I was forced to form a shield within the bond itself to stem the feeling you associated with its presence. It is possible that this shield, so directly in contact with your mind has caused some displacement of your emotions."

"Okay." Jim shifted how he sat, feeling a bit more like a little boy for the moment. "What do we do then?"

Now Spock lowered his brow a fraction, apparently not pleased with his own answer. "There is only one current answer, given the necessity of the shield to prevent your alarm. While it would be possible to remove the shield, I do not believe that forcing you to acclimate yourself to the bond in such a manner would be conducive to your health. In light of this difficulty, I would request permission to access your mind, in so much that I could build the shield from your own mind, making a much more effective and unobtrusive defense."

Jim considered that a moment. He couldn't claim he was surprised this was all because of the bond. While he'd been having a bad week or two, this insane feeling, the loss of control, had really only taken over that morning. He could see, from a single glance in those wide brown eyes, that Spock felt guilty for that, at least.

"Alright. Your dad said we needed to anyway, right? In case anything happens..." Jim grimaced at his own word choice. "Never mind. We can work that out later."

Spock had, momentarily, forgotten the suggestion. He had never considered that they would actually do such. Jim's mind was not his to access, and would have never been. He would have gone without ever removing the shielding, nor attempting to ease the bond into place. Yet, now that Jim mentioned it, he was beginning to realize just what trouble and danger this bond could be.

"Very well, I will fix the shielding now, with your permission." Spock shifted subtly closer, extending his hand.

Spock did not enter Jim's mind as he would in a normal meld. The bond plunged him deep into Jim's mind, deep into his katra. Jim's soul, his essence ghosted through him, seamlessly falling against his own soul. The cool breath of his soul was like a soothing balm on the ragged edges of his torn bonds. He could feel, too, the long torn edges within Jim's own soul. Though these points were like fire against his soul, an echoing pain, he didn't shy away from this feeling.

He distanced himself from the senseless feeling, though, focusing instead on the bond itself. Jim's mind was clingy, he noticed, not just in the areas where his presence assuaged his pain, but also against Spock's broken bonds. A gentle nudge, a reminder of his purpose there, was all it took though for Jim to respectfully release him.

The shield had been effectively obliterated by their meld, so Spock had no way of seeing just where it had gone wrong before. This was hardly of consequence, because he could now feel, through Jim's mind, the shield he was erecting. It was nearly finished when Spock began to withdraw. The shield would be mostly inoffensive to his mind. Spock would retrieve himself through the bond, however. Though he was at the deepest point of Jim, there was much he had not touched within Jim. To withdraw from his mind after sealing himself inside...he would have to pass through all of Jim, and he had no right to do so. If Jim ever so wished for him to access his mind in such a way, he would do so from a normal meld.

When Spock withdrew, finally, he sat for a long moment, just staring into Jim's eyes. Jim seemed equally stunned, before finally slumping back, rubbing a bit at his eyes.

"Wow." Jim gulped. "That was a hell of a hug."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. "Have you assessed your well being?"

Jim sighed, scooting back a bit to prop himself up against the pillows. "Tired. I just really realized I haven't slept in a while...A lot better. Is that supposed to feel like that?"

"I do not know." Spock admitted.

Jim hummed, closing his eyes a bit. "That...wasn't that bad. I...I'm not really sure what to think about that."

"Indeed." Spock shifted a bit, disguising it as changing how he was sitting. "It is less invasive then I had believed it would be and yet somehow..."

"More?" Jim offered. "I think I get what that healer was saying...I mean, not that we're getting married or anything...but...I, if you don't think it's a bad idea...I wouldn't necessarily say you had to stay completely out of my head." Jim cracked an eye open and saw an entirely blank look fixed on him. "What I mean is...well, when you were in my head, it felt like a load off my shoulders. Like...peace of mind or something. I thought, maybe that isn't such a bad thing? I don't know. I'm tired and rambling and-"

"I understand." Spock interrupted. "I believe you are correct. If we are to continue such melds, however, I find it likely that we will become exceedingly familiar with each others thought process."

Jim didn't need that spelled out for him. If they kept doing that, they'd be in each others heads. And even ignoring the difficulties they were going to deal with the fake relationship they were trying to keep up, that was going to change their relationship drastically. Jim was still trying to figure out this sort-of friend thing they had going on, and now it was immediately being changed.

Is wasn't like Jim wasn't up for a challenge. "If it helps, then we'll work it out. Maybe this will be easier than trying to figure out this whole friendship thing on my own."

Now Spock raised both eyebrows, possibly amused. "I see. Rest now Jim. I will return to retrieve you for dinner."

Jim hummed, letting his eyes fall shut again and relaxing into the stiff bed. He was asleep within moments. Spock stood, watching him for a moment, shaken, before leaving the room quickly. The interaction of Jim's mind with his own had not been anything like he expected. His katra longed for that healing contact, and he understood now why his father had been so insistent that he see a healer. Until he had felt such a soothing calm, he had not realized how turbulent his own katra had been. He did not know how long this borrowed stability would last, and a small part of him worried he would become dependent of Jim's healing touch. That he would not truly heal, but simply rely on Jim.

He needed meditation, for now.

… .. . .. …

Jim squirmed. He wasn't used to squirming in front of people, but he also wasn't used to standing in front of his not-a-fiance's father apologizing for running off the day before. Sarek would have none of it though, completely brushing him off. Jim didn't know what to think of that.

One final diplomatic breakfast, and they were off. Pike was suspicious, but didn't press about what was so important. Jim was grateful for that, at least. Word was somewhat contained within his crew, and he wanted it to stay that way. While he could do nothing about the news that they were dating spreading through Starfleet at this point, the last thing he wanted was for _everyone_ to know about his more than dating, but not exactly engaged, but totally more serious than that in some ways thing he had happening with Spock.

He should have known things weren't going to be that simple.

McCoy stormed into the canteen, a PADD in his hands waving wildly about. His face was flush and flustered as he approached. Spock had actually been the first to spot him, and Uhura and Jim quickly devoted their attention to him.

"I can't believe this." McCoy huffed when he could finally speak, thrusting the PADD in Uhura's hands.

She began reading quickly. "...That the two heroes of the Federation and the greatest assets of Starfleet...substantiated by several witnesses during an incident upon Starbase...Captain James T. Kirk and Commander Spock are engaged in a romantic relationship of considerable depth and severity. Not much is currently known on the details of this romantic relationship."

Jim groaned even as she set the PAAD down, still staring at it. Spock looked to be sitting a bit stiffer in his seat, his mouth a tight line. McCoy was still fidgeting angrily, having renewed his disgusted fluster with the rereading of the article.

"Great." Jim sighed, rubbing his temples. "Great. Okay...This can't be worse than facing down a Klingon armada, can it?" Three pairs of eyes came to settle on him and he winced. "It could be worse though."

Uhura whistled lowly, passing the PADD back to McCoy. "We knew this was going to hit the tabloids sooner or later."

"This is completely unfounded." McCoy hissed. "They have absolutely no right to be prying into people's lives."

"It's their job, Bones." Jim fumed. "When did this hit the news cycle?"

"About an hour ago."

"Fuck." Jim croaked. "That means I have about two more hours before every single person I know is clamoring for an explanation and half a trillion that I don't."

"I apologize-" Spock began, before Jim cut him off, raising his hand to stop him without even looking up. "Captain?"

"That is not what I need right now." Jim scolded. "And I know. Really. This stupid bond has made it perfectly clear how bad you feel about that."

Spock straightened his spine. "I do not believe I have made any transgression that warrants such punishment as discussing feelings, Jim."

Jim chuckled, before breaking down into a nearly hysterical bout of laughter. McCoy pulled out a tricorder, a rather flat look on his face as he checked to see that Jim wasn't having a breakdown. Nothing abnormal, but still.

"Is that mind junk making him loose his mind?" McCoy hummed, putting the tricorder away.

"Not at this juncture, no."

"I'm sure this will all blow over in a few weeks." Uhura ignored the exchange. "This kind of gossip doesn't last very long, not even for heroes of the Federation."

… .. . .. …

"Um...Captain Kirk?" Yeoman Rand looked deeply apologetic to be bothering him in the middle of his shift.

Jim sighed, aware that this had to have something to do with that stupid article. "Yes?"

"Well...sir...You've received twenty messages in the last thirty minutes, two of which are video messages." She half shrugged. "It could be pretty important."

"I doubt it." Jim muttered, standing up. "Spock, take the conn. I'll take my messages in the meeting room Rand."

She nodded once and hurried off. Jim gave Spock a withering look as he came to stand by the command chair. Spock simply raised an eyebrow and Jim reluctantly stormed off to go find out what everyone wanted.

Spock hadn't been sitting long when he felt a sharp spike of anger deep below his shields and stood abruptly. "You have the conn. Lieutenant Sulu."

Sulu snapped his head up in surprise just quick enough to see Spock leaving the room. Everyone stared silently for a moment, glancing around. With a look of apprehension, Sulu moved.

Spock could still feel the faintest tug of unbridled fury below his shields. It was shocking. This emotion, it was something that flooded even the walls of the bond, beyond what any shield could stop. It was tainting Jim's katra, like a festering wound leaking poison. He hesitated to think what could possibly be the cause of such a thing.

Jim had locked the door to the meeting room, but Spock had no trouble overriding it. What he saw inside prompted him to re-engage the lock behind him.

Jim was standing in the middle of the room, heaving. Blood dripped from his hand, mirroring the two bloody spots on the wall that had likely damaged him when struck. One of the chairs had been uprooted, thrown at the view screen to bounce harmlessly off and to the side somewhere. Jim's face was almost emotionless, the fury he was feeling too deep to show on the surface. He didn't turn when Spock entered the room.

The video correspondence on the screen had been paused. On it, the head and shoulders of a human man stared down. His gray-green eyes danced with laughter in the frozen still, his lips twitched into a genuine, adorante smirk. He was a handsome man, if somewhat rough looking, having apparently not shaved in a day or so. His mud brown hair fell somewhat wispily across his forehead, nearly covering his raised, bushy brown eyebrows. In spite of the few scars and the sunburned skin, it was all too clear this man was related to Jim.

"Jim." Spock encroached softly.

Jim glanced back at him, eyes nearly icy and his pupils pin-pricks in his irises. "Spock."

The inflection of his name sent a chill through Spock, a sharp dagger. "Your anger alerted me to some distress."

Jim sneered. "Sorry to have inconvenienced you."

"You are not, but it is of no consequence." Spock placed his hands behind his back, coming to stand at a parade rest next to Jim. "His is of close relation?"

"My brother." Jim growled, kicking a chair out from the table and collapsing into it.

Spock carefully moved to sit near him. "Why are you angered by his correspondence, Jim?"

Jim laughed. "You know...I hadn't spoken to any of my family in years...when I became a Captain. My mother called me up that night, in tears. She didn't beg for forgiveness, but she wanted me to understand how sorry she was, how _proud_ she was. I was so angry at her...but I couldn't quite cut her out of my life. We don't talk often, but she's trying. Sure, it took me turning my life around for her to give even an ounce of concern about me, hell, she constantly lectures me about staying out of trouble. Day late and a credit short, but at least she's there."

"Your brother did not contact you." Spock was smart enough to follow the implications.

"No." Jim stared up at the screen. "He left me, when I was ten. And now? Now he waltzes right back in, calling me up without so much as a 'how have you been' or a 'sorry it's been so long'. He just starts talking at me like it was only yesterday we were staring up at the stars, making plans for our lives, like he didn't abandon me."

Spock felt a twinge of that poison hatred through the shield and it made him sick, because he understood it quite well. "Will you refuse his correspondence, then?"

Jim let out a choked sob and shook his head, slamming his damaged fist into the table. "I want to. I really do."

"Jim...I can feel how this tears at your katra." Spock spoke slowly, not wanting to alarm him. "I believe it would be unwise to make a decision while you are so damaged."

Jim snarled. "It isn't exactly as easy for humans. We can't just go to a healer and have them do some mind thing and fix us."

Spock raised an eyebrow at him, silently questioning. Jim growled, rubbing at his face. The pain lancing through Spock's katra eased, and finally he was capable of an easy breath. Something akin to amusement bubbled up through the walls of their shared connection, something strange to Spock.

"Can you help?" Jim murmured through his hands.

"Possibly." Spock considered also that he could do more harm than good.

Jim had made up his mind, though, shifting his chair so they sat facing each other, knees bumping slightly. "I know I'm asking a lot, but please. I don't know how to handle this."

Spock nodded, placing his hand on the side of Jim's face. In seconds he was plunged into Jim's katra, the shield between them tearing easily. His bond to Jim was strong, a soft point in both of their katras. It was soothing, but Jim did not need simply soothing contact. Spock allowed their katras to wash over each other.

He connected immediately, with the poison there. He could feel the sick darkness that injured his soul. And the burning, torn place where his connection to his brother once stood. He could feel, too, that it had never properly healed, never truly scarred, still ragged and fresh. It cut at his own katra, seeped darkness into him, poison. But Spock knew, from experience he knew the greatest salve of a human soul. He knew from his contact with his own mother's mind. Spock soothed his katra along Jim's, allowed this wound to dig into him until it was wrapped deep in his katra.

Like soft, fluttering kisses placed on the sleeping eyes of a child, Spock brushed his katra to Jim's. Jim shied away, at first, from the soothing touch, but Spock was steadfast. Finally Jim eased, _allowing_ Spock to heal the damage. It was such a human way that Spock handled him, so undeniable.

Spock finally pulled away, when he was sure he could offer no more assistance.

Jim was staring at him, eyes again their natural cobalt. "You didn't heal it."

"No. I should think it is not that simple." Spock instructed.

Jim frowned. "I don't get it."

Spock leaned back a bit, lowering his eyebrows ever so slightly. "I can not heal a broken bond, Jim. I can only offer salve and bandage as well as I can. There are no regenerators for the katra Jim, no devices that can simply close a wound with no trace."

"Oh." Jim rubbed at the back of his neck. "Is...if I didn't do anything...would it feel like the connection to your mother?"

Spock snapped his spine straight, staring at Jim, his mouth a thin line. Jim winced, pushing himself lower in his seat.

"I didn't mean to pry." Jim apologized. "I couldn't help but feel it, and know what it was. It's...dark."

Spock glanced away. "Indeed."

Jim shifted awkwardly. "Uh...want to go through the rest of these with me? I'm not sure I want to watch Pike's video alone."

Spock raised an eyebrow, aware of the immediate change of conversation. "Very well Captain."

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**Second chapter! And just about as long as the first. Writing these long chapters is crazy, but fun. That said, it might take a little while to keep up. No more than two weeks between chapter though, I think.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm not even going to pretend I own Star Trek. This is significantly earlier that I had anticipated...but hey, I felt like writing.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. ...

"No." Jim snapped, folding his arms over his chest.

"Then I believe we are done." Spock informed him, tucking his hands at his back.

"I AM NOT-" Jim hesitated, glancing around the partially full gym glaring at anyone who was daring to glance at them and lowering his voice to a hiss. "I am not joking around here Spock."

"Nor am I, Jim." Spock stiffened his posture. "If your intent is to truly learn, then you must do as I instruct you."

"This is bullshit." Jim growled. "Is this just to take me down a peg? Is that it?"

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "I have no need to do so, Jim. Nor do I understand why you would believe I would do such."

Jim opened his mouth to protest, before realizing exactly what Spock was implying and flushing. "Okay. Everyone is not out to get me. But this is ridiculous. You can't be serious about me completely having to re-learn how to _stand_. It's ridiculous and you know it."

"You have no base, Jim."

Jim flushed, sputtering. "What does _that_ mean?"

"The fact that you do not know is highly telling." Spock moved to Jim's side, pushing at his back and legs as he spoke. "On numerous occasion you have thrown your entire body into your attack. While I understand you utilize this technique because you feel you need increased force, you are wrong. You loose all control of the direction of your attacks. What do you do when you miss?"

Jim folded his arms over his chest, feeling incredibly awkward in the way Spock had positioned his legs. "I turn around, duh."

"In how many steps?" Spock prompted, prodding Jim's hip into a better position.

"I don't know...Two or three?" Jim peered curiously at Spock as he slapped his calf with the side of his foot.

"If you were in the correct position, fighting properly, you would not need to do so." Spock scolded. "Pivoting would be your most frequent means of readjustment."

Jim snorted. "That's great, but you can lift me like I'm paper."

Spock raised both eyebrows, moving to stand in front of Jim. "Stand how you deem most appropriate for a fight."

Jim shifted immediately, feeling infinitely more comfortable. "Okay. Now what."

Spock placed his hands around Jim's waist and lifted him straight up, easily. Jim squeaked and several people turned to look their direction. Jim glared at them as Spock put him back down, but he had a distinct feeling they were snickering. Now Spock invaded his personal space again, pushing at his hips and legs. You would think someone who was so keen on personal space wouldn't be so free with touching. Apparently it was just that necessary to get Jim into the right position.

Jim felt awkward, standing half in profile and leaning all his weight on his back foot. Spock moved back to his original position and placed his hands around Jim's waist again. He lifted, again, and Jim could feel his muscles strain in his arms to do so, but Jim barely felt his feet lift from the ground, raising to his toes.

"Whoa." Jim shifted his weight between his feet awkwardly. "How does that work?"

"Your weight is farther from my center of balance, making it incredibly difficult for me to lift you, while it would normally be negligible."

"How much can you normally drop-lift?"

"Approximately 590 pounds." Spock replied immediately.

"That's, like, three times my weight."

"3.397 times your weight...approximately."

"I get that it's an approximation." Jim rolled his eyes. "Still, that doesn't seem like a lot."

"How much can you lift in such a manner?"

Jim flushed. "I don't know. About 220? Less. I haven't done that kind of weight training in a while. But I'm not a professional weight lifter."

"Nor am I." Spock quirked an eyebrow at him.

Jim scowled, shaking his head. "Never mind. Moving on. It still seems like a waste of time."

Spock shoved Jim's shoulders, hard, nearly toppling him over. Jim stood back up shocked. Spock started to push him into the stance again and Jim shifted into it much easier. It wasn't near as difficult as it had felt the first time. Spock shoved him again. Jim wobbled, but he didn't stumble back.

"Your base is everything."

"But it drops my strength."

"You do not need strength, Jim, when you are in possession of leverage." Spock darted in, snaking his leg behind Jim's and canting his hip to throw his captain to the ground.

Jim peered up at him for a long moment before an excited smirk broke out across his face. "Careful. I can't guarantee I'll think rationally if you bring engineering and physics into this."

Spock offered his hand to pull Jim up. "Indeed? I was unaware you are capable of rational thought."

"Hey now." Jim swept his leg, tugging down on his hand and bringing Spock to the floor.

Spock controlled his fall, driving his elbow into the mat next to Jim's head. Jim twisted to the side, wrapping his arm around Spock's as he moved. Spock jerked his legs around, removing the pressure from Jim's hold on him by shifting his weight. He threw their weight jointly, creating enough momentum to twist Jim towards the mat. Jim hissed, wriggling.

"Where did you learn to wrestle?" Jim cawed, still struggling.

Spock pressed Jim's shoulder to the mat, pulling back. "I have studied numerous methods of self-defense, including multiple methods of grappling."

Jim sighed, finally relenting. Spock immediately let him up. Jim eyed him a moment, easing himself back to his feet, before giving in with only some reluctance.

"Okay. Fine." Jim quirked an awkward smile. "Show me the basics."

Spock did, and Jim was endlessly frustrated. There was no way Spock wasn't teasing him. No way. Spock was making him stand and shift and all sorts of stupid foot work and then he was making him re-learn everything he knew about punching and hitting things and blocking. Spock seemed perfectly fine with the whole situation, and that made Jim uncomfortable too.

He was uncomfortable because Spock wasn't. Spock was interacting with him like there was nothing odd about the situation and that just highlighted the fact that Jim wasn't friends with him. Jim _wasn't_. Because people didn't feel weird around their friends or make surprised utterances at learning their friend _did_ like applying physics to fighting. Friends didn't make any excuse to talk about physics so they didn't have to talk about themselves. Friends didn't feel ashamed for talking about their interests instead of learning about their friends.

… .. . .. …

"What?" McCoy looked at Jim somewhat flatly, before shaking his head.

Jim squirmed. "I'm trying, damn it. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Didn't Uhura give you the run down?" McCoy wandered off to check over how the sickbay was proceeding.

"Well, yeah, but that's a girl's perspective. Which is fine if I'm trying to sound like a lovestruck girl, but I'm not." Jim shrugged helplessly. "You know him as a guy...er...you know. As buddies."

McCoy rolled his eyes, checking off something on his PADD. "Your point being?"

"So you can totally tell me what I need to know so that I don't keep acting weird." Jim beamed. "You know how to be friends with him. I've got no idea. And while that apparently worked when I wasn't talking to him about anything but work, actually trying means I'm going to screw up."

McCoy sighed, the same look on his face that he used to give Joanna when she couldn't play a single note on her clarinet without squeaking. It was all at once affectionate and exasperated. Jim's enthusiasm to do this was so...perfect, so earnest.

"I really can't help you Jim. You probably can't talk with him about what I do." McCoy smirked. "Well, you could, but you wouldn't want to."

Jim scowled. "What? Why? I can talk about anything you two can. What can you talk with him about that I can't? Is...can _you_ talk to _me_ about it?"

McCoy whirled around, shocked by the whiny tone of that last sentence. "For god's sake Jim, we talk about you mostly."

Jim pulled quite the face. "What?"

McCoy shrugged. "Work and you are our main topics. Most of the time we talk about you. Considering how much you permeate both of our lives, it's almost inevitable. It isn't like he's particularly forthcoming about his family life or anything, anyway. And he's doing his hobbies for a profession."

Jim blinked at him, almost looking like he were considering what McCoy was saying. "What do you mean I permeate your lives?"

McCoy narrowed his eyes, heading back for his office to put his paperwork up. "When you aren't on duty you're either here or somewhere around Spock. It's a wonder you have any personal time."

Jim gaped a moment. There was no way he spent that much time around Spock. Except...well, now that he thought about it he did wander around the labs a lot. And he knew he played chess in the rec room with him fairly often. And...they did just hang around one of the observation decks talking every now and then.

"Oh god" Jim shook his head. "Have I really been spending that much time with him?"

McCoy snorted. "And now you understand why it isn't so hard for everyone to believe you're dating."

Jim froze, gawking at him while he moved to sit behind his desk. Bones flashed him a terrible grin before shooing him out of the room. Numbly, Jim obeyed, too shocked to really protest his dismissal. He stalked off towards his room, intent on making a chart, because charts never lied.

… .. . .. …

"_What_ are you doing?" Uhura tapped her foot impatiently on the floor, hands on her hips.

Jim looked up from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the observation deck, reading glasses half off his nose and a PADD he was scribbling furiously on. "Um...Personal work. I got tired of working in my room, am I not allowed to do that?"

She made a sound in the back of her throat that indicated annoyance. "Did you forget already?"

Jim furrowed his brow, before shrugging a little. "I guess? Ah...what can I do for you?"

She rolled her eyes, gesturing for him to stand. "Get up, come make your weekly appearance in the rec room."

Jim stood with a frown. "Weekly appearance?"

A pained look flashed through her eyes before she turned towards the door. "Yes Kirk. You usually head to the rec room once a week to play chess and another time to just mingle."

Jim followed her, deep in thought. He mingled? Well, he knew he would wander the ship, and the rec room did end up on his itinerary every now and then. But people always stopped what they were doing whenever he came into the room...oh. They probably considered it mingling, because he showed up and just listened to them talk about ship business and any problems they needed solved. Was that...a good thing? Was it considered friendly and good leadership to just listen to people?

Uhura was watching him from the corner of her eye in the turbo lift.

He was clearly mulling something over, and she didn't know how to take that. McCoy had never mentioned how much Jim was keeping himself apart from them. She wasn't sure if she should thank him or smack him, because she could see it now. It hurt to see how little he even realized it. How he perceived his own actions wasn't even close to how the crew saw him. She straightened herself as the turbo lift came to a stop, a firm look settling on her face. She was a communications expert, she wasn't going to stand for that.

Everyone seemed to perk up when Jim entered the rec room. Spock set aside his PADD, sitting up just a bit straighter, canting an eyebrow at Uhura. She waved him off with a look and headed to plot over Chekov's shoulder. Jim shifted his stance a little, standing up straighter.

A few people threw greetings his way and he nodded with a polite smile. After an awkward moment, Jim moved over to sit on the couch next to Spock. This was going in his chart. A few people muttered about ship business before they mostly just quietly returned to what they were doing. Jim was getting the feeling people were staring at him more than usual. He glanced over at Spock to see him watching him rather blatantly, a contemplative look in his eyes. It was unnerving. Jim flushed, looking back down at his PADD and trying to focus on his chart. People kept glancing at him. They weren't even talking to him like normal.

McCoy came slinking in half an hour later looking exhausted. He just about collapsed into a vacant chair, muttering something about ensigns. Sulu, who's turn it apparently was to distribute drinks, dropped a cold tea on the table in front of him without missing a single beat.

He hadn't asked Jim what he wanted to drink. But he hadn't gotten Spock a drink either. Apparently neither of them normally accepted drinks while mingling in the rec room.

Jim tried to observe the crew without being obvious, but with people continually throwing looks his way he wasn't exactly successful. He could only just see what they were doing from the corner of his eye. Spock was still watching him over top of his PADD.

After a good long ramble about people with no respect for their own lives and no self-preservation, McCoy finally started looking around the room. It didn't take long for him to spot Jim. It didn't take Jim long to spot the subsequent grin and put his PADD down entirely. People took that as a sign that they could start blatantly watching him again. He tried to ignore it.

"What are you grinning at?" Jim hissed.

"Nothing." McCoy didn't even try to fight down his smile. "It's just nice to see you following doctor's orders for once."

"What?" Jim frowned, trying to remember if Bones had said anything recently.

He tapped his temple, still grinning maniacally. Jim brought his hand up to his temple, and immediately felt the thin wire frame of his glasses. Startled, Jim yanked them off. His cheeks started to burn as he realized _that_ was why everyone was staring at him so intently. He didn't like to wear his reading glasses because he felt like it was a weakness that his crew wouldn't want to see. How was a captain supposed to keep his crew's confidence if he was impaired in such a stupid and normally fixable way? He didn't need the glasses that bad, and he couldn't take corrective measures, so he usually just avoided them entirely.

Damn this chart and its induced eyestrain.

"Quit being vain and wear the glasses Jim." McCoy snorted, returning to his tea.

"I do not understand why he would decline to wear corrective lenses as a matter of vanity, Doctor." Spock had collected them from Jim's hand and was inspecting the simple frames.

Jim was pouting, curled up in his corner and glaring down at his PADD. "It's not a vanity thing."

McCoy narrowed his eyes, scooping some ice out of his drink to throw in their direction. "None of that you pointy eared bastard."

Jim sat up bolt right, ignoring the ice that just pelted him, his expression tight. "Bones, can I talk to you for a minute?"

McCoy took note of the extremely harsh tone of voice and stood up, a little unsure of what was going on. Jim all but stormed out of the room and with a confused glance, McCoy followed. Jim was standing in the empty hall when he exited, a livid look on his face.

"What bee flew in your bonnet?" McCoy scowled.

Jim snarled. "Never talk about any of my crew like that again."

McCoy didn't startle easily, but his best friend bearing down on him with that kind of ferocity was certainly startling. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't even pretend Bones." Jim snapped. "You're better than that. If I hear another xenophobic comment from you-"

"Excuse me?" McCoy roared, cutting him off. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about but I won't just sit down and let you insult my integrity."

Jim bristled and made to retort, but came up short when Spock exited the rec room. McCoy rolled his eyes.

"You do not have to be here." McCoy snapped.

"Indeed?" Spock glanced between them. "I believe I have been the cause of a misunderstanding."

"What?" Jim and McCoy said at once.

"Doctor, it is apparent that Jim was angered by your terms of endearment towards me." Spock quirked an eyebrow, earning two flabbergasted looks. "He appeared agitated only after your use of the moniker 'pointy eared bastard'. As I am aware you are neither speaking ill of my parentage or my species, it is unimportant to me. I am aware that you use such terms, along with other monikers such as 'green-blooded hobgoblin' and 'cold-blooded computer', not in an attempt to illicit an emotional response, but rather in the Terran tradition of vitriolic correspondence between acquaintances and friends. It would appear, however, that Jim has misinterpreted this."

Jim and McCoy blinked at him for a moment, letting that sink in.

"So you aren't upset?" Jim frowned.

"No Jim, I am not."

"Oh..." He glanced sheepishly at McCoy. "Sorry."

McCoy had a weird half smile on his face; the other half sneaking a hint of some highly disturbed thought. "Can't complain, really. It means a lot that you would stand up for him like that."

Jim flushed, suddenly feeling very awkward. "Yeah, well, if I'd been paying any attention I would have known that was normal behavior for both of you. So I guess I lose points there."

"I am grateful all the same." Spock nodded once to him, before turning his attention to McCoy. "I would request you explain your previous statement. None of what?"

McCoy shook his head. "Like I can't tell flirting when I hear it."

Spock's ears darkened a bit, but it went unnoticed by Jim. "What? No. Spock just doesn't get vanity because it wouldn't be logical. And it isn't a vanity thing anyway."

"Bull." McCoy snorted.

"My observations were not meant in a flirtatious manner, Doctor McCoy." Spock scolded, pointedly not looking at Jim.

"But you admit that your comment was based on the fact that you _like_ Jim in glasses, right?" McCoy smirked.

"To like something is highly illogical, as are most preferences." Spock straightened. "My observations were based both on the necessity of his reading glasses and the fact that they do not affect his visual appeal in any way. As they are both significant to his eye health and are irrelevant to his looks, it would be illogical to base his decision not to wear them on vanity."

"So yes."

"It isn't a vanity thing!" Jim cried in exasperation, trying desperately to ignore the rest of the conversation.

"Sure it isn't." McCoy snorted, heading back for the rec room.

Jim shook his head. "It really isn't."

"You need not convince me, Jim." Spock quirked an eyebrow. "I am curious as to why you would not wear them regularly, if they are necessary, but I do not require an answer."

Jim shuffled a bit before gesturing back to the rec room. Spock nodded and entered first. People stopped talking as Jim entered the room and he felt like there was a stone in his chest. Why couldn't people just ignore him? Was he that much of a dampener on everyone's enjoyment? Feeling like his insides were turning to bile, Jim returned to the couch and his PADD. After a few seconds he reached over and yanked his reading glasses from where Spock was dangling them loosely in one hand, absently turning them over as he read whatever was on his PADD.

Jim turned scarlet as his fingers brushed Spock's but he pointedly ignored the bruising heat in his fingers as he brought his definitely not shaking hand up to replace his glasses on his face. Spock never looked up from his PADD, but Jim could swear there was a micro-expression there of amusement.

… .. . .. …

Jim winced tucking his feet up under himself in the doctor's chair. McCoy ignored the childish curling up on himself, continuing to scrub the dead skin off of his palms. Jim was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, even with the painkiller in his system.

"What have we learned about setting our hands on the inner workings of a starship?" McCoy hummed, abrading the burns so he could begin healing them.

Jim whimpered but didn't respond. He didn't really trust himself to talk. He was just glad he had the presence of mind to calmly peel his hands from the hot metal and get in touch with McCoy. Sure, Scotty fussed over him until Bones got there, but it was just Scotty. Jim trusted Scotty.

He liked Scotty; he was an awesome guy.

"Well, let me get the dermal regenerator on this and you should be fine. You'll be stiff for a while, but you'll be fine."

Jim nodded, staring down at his bloody raw hands. McCoy made quick work of cleaning them up. The pain diminished greatly, as they healed, and Jim finally released the death clench of his jaw. It ached, badly, but he was far more concerned with his hands.

"Will I ever play piano again doc?" Jim muttered flexing his overly stiff hands.

"No. Now stop touching things that hurt you."

"Oh." Jim shrugged a little. "I'll try to pay more attention next time."

"Have you been sleeping alright?" McCoy immediately started grilling him. "Are you noticing any weird side-effects from your connection to Spock? Have you been following the diet I made up for you? How are you feeling? Rundown? Depressed? Is anything wrong?"

Jim blinked at him for a moment before sighing. "I'm fine Bones, really."

"You've been lost in thought for a week, Jim. It seems like no one can get your attention for anything and you have your nose buried in that PADD of yours." McCoy busied himself with cleaning his equipment. "Everyone's been worried about you."

"I'm fine." Jim promised. "I'm just...thinking. I've had a lot to think about lately. Apparently I'm leading a completely different life then I ever thought. So...I need some time to re-evaluate where I'm at."

McCoy sat down next to him, a contemplative look on his face. "Yeah? How's that going?"

"Really poorly." Jim admitted. "Suddenly everything's really awkward and I'm trying to figure out what I used to do, because I was on autopilot and I don't know how I even survived like that. And I keep second guessing myself and trying to figure out what I've been doing wrong this entire time. Every time I start to feel happy and comfortable I panic and I don't know what to do. And every time people start looking at me I just can't handle it because I feel like I'm going to screw up and ruin everything. What if I act like myself and people don't like me? What then? What do I do when I've ruined this relationship I didn't mean to build up by changing how I act around people? How do I even know if I'm acting differently? I feel like I've been completely out of touch with reality and just got thrown into a parallel universe where everything's different."

"I don't think you're that lucky." Was all McCoy could say after several moments of silence.

Jim laughed just a little bitterly. "Yeah. This thing with Spock isn't helping at all though."

"Oh?" McCoy couldn't quite keep the gossipy hen out of his voice.

Jim shot him a sidelong look. "I'm surprised he hasn't talked your ear off about it, seeing as I'm such a huge part of both of your lives."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Jim."

Jim shrugged a little. "I made a chart. It's scary. Seriously. I spend way too much time with Spock. But he's really being weird around me. I guess. Maybe not? I mean, I'm still figuring out how normal our interactions are, but he really doesn't like talking about this hole in my brain."

"How persistent have you been about this discussion?"

"Um..." Jim sort of shuffled in his seat, rubbing his sore hands tentatively. "He usually walks away when I start alluding to talking about it."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Up. Go. Find him, talk. You told me that this bond was dangerous and made you feel weak and sick when the shield was dropped. You said you started getting panic attacks just thinking about it. That isn't going to fly. Get this solved so there is no way it can hurt either of you."

Jim frowned. "I'm scared."

McCoy sighed, patting him on the back. "I know Jim. Relationships are scary things, even imaginary ones. Just remember that works both ways. The way he sees it, you guys had a decent friendship going and then he screwed it up trying to save your life."

"He didn't screw it up." Jim furrowed his brow. "I just didn't even know it existed."

McCoy smiled, shaking his head. "Be that as it may Jimmy, he was willing to destroy his friendship with you as long as you were going to be okay. He's never done anything like this before, real or fake. He's just as out of his depths as you are. Go talk to him."

Jim nodded, reluctantly rising to his feet. "Okay...you might want to prep the sickbay for surgery."

"He's not going to hurt you." McCoy snorted, shoving him out of his office and into the main sickbay. "And for gods sakes don't tell me the details."

Jim gave him a confused look. "What?"

McCoy had already locked himself back in his office. A few personnel throughout sickbay were giggling and snickering at him. He left with a bit of a huff, ignoring the way people were putting their heads together to talk about him. Couldn't they at least wait to gossip until he left the room?

… .. . .. …

Jim ran his fingers through his hair, effectively ruining all the hard work he had just put into it. He stared down at the plain white t-shirt on his bed and growled, glancing back at his dresser. Everything else he had was too formal or was regulation. He didn't want either of those things. Disgruntled, he shucked off the Captain's tunic and undershirt at the same time, managing to tangle himself up in it for a moment. His hair was going every which way at that point.

Jim hesitated, glancing down at himself. He was still wearing the rest of his regulation wear. With a groan he returned to his dresser. Blue jeans. He needed blue jeans. Why were they buried beneath everything? Ug. Jim kicked off his boots as he continued to dig for the old pair of jeans. His pants were half off when he made to throw a pair of red boxers across the room out of his way. He stumbled as he flailed to catch them and landed on his ass.

This was not going well.

He managed to get mostly changed though. His red boxers were peeking out from under his jeans because they kept riding down his hips, but his shirt would probably cover that. Jim tied on a pair of sneakers surveying them critically. They would go well enough, the red tied in with his boxers. And no, it didn't seem at all odd to him to be color coordinating with his underwear.

Jim went over his check list again. Showered, check. Shaved, check. Hair styled...well, that was a work in progress. Clean clothes, check. Good personalized look, more or less. Shit. He'd forgotten cologne. Jim froze when he was half way to the bathroom. Maybe cologne wasn't the best idea. He never could get the balance on that right.

Jim turned back to his bed. Okay. No cologne, but definitely deodorant. He felt like he was missing something. His shoe laces were tied, he was wearing underwear, he had pants. What was wrong with this image? Jim glanced over himself, running through the checklist again, dodging piles of clothing as he paced his room. He couldn't think of anything. Maybe...No. Jim ran a hand down his chest. Definitely no. He had waxed the day before. He was perfectly groomed, so what was missing?

A second later Jim blinked, looking down at his bare chest. Oh.

With a sigh he grabbed the T-shirt off his bed and pulled it on. That was marginally better. Jim scrunched up his face, ruffling his hair again. Okay. He wasn't getting much better at this point. Jim slapped himself a few times, jumped up and down, and desperately wished all that nervous energy he had somehow built up would disappear. It didn't go away, but that wasn't going to stop him from wishing.

Clean, and as ready as he was going to be, Jim stepped out of his room. He took a couple deep breaths and marched the twenty or so paces to Spock's door. He rang the chime before he could chicken out, then desperately clawed at his face for half a second wondering why he did that, before snapping up straight and shoving his hands in his pockets. He heard Spock announce that he was coming and quickly ran his hand through his hair again. When Spock opened the door he shoved his hand back in his pocket and smiled awkwardly.

"Hey Spock."

"Captain." Spock paused, looking him over slowly and quirking an eyebrow. "Jim."

Jim felt his cheeks heat a little. "Can I come in?"

Spock glanced over Jim's shoulder at few personnel walking past. "You may."

He stepped to the side and Jim swept into the room. It looked like it always did. A moment later Jim wondered why and how he knew that. He didn't mule on it long, because he turned his attention to Spock and caught the fact that he had been staring at him.

"What?" Jim craned to look at his back, wondering if he'd gotten something stuck to his shirt or something.

"I am curious as to why you are no longer in uniform."

"I'm not on duty." Jim frowned, looking back at him. "Why? Does it look bad?"

They both stood there for a moment staring at each other. Okay, so that was a bit ridiculous. There was no way Jim couldn't pull off jeans and a t-shirt. The only thing worse was that he was asking Spock about how he looked. Jim glanced nervously down, plucking at his shirt absently.

"Sorry. I'm just...I wanted to be _casual_."

"You have succeeded." Spock informed him curtly.

Jim scuffed an awkward shoe on the ground. "So...uh...how are you?"

"My health is adequate." He circled him a moment, before moving on to the sitting area.

Jim paused, giving him a scrutinizing look. Was Spock just checking him out? No. Clearly not. He was just curious, because he'd never seen Jim in jeans. It was those stupid rumors. Jim was starting to observe their actions like those damn gossips on his crew. But he knew there was nothing going on there. People were just being ridiculous. Jim felt a little more at ease with that idea.

He followed Spock, plopping down on the couch next to him. "So..."

Spock cocked his head to the side. "Yes Jim?"

Jim chuckled nervously, almost hiccuping in his apprehension. "Can we talk?"

"We are currently doing so."

"Right. Obviously. I just meant." Jim waved his hand somewhat maniacally around in wild gesticulation. "Specifics. Like...questions. Can I ask questions?"

Spock's eyebrow inched up higher. "You are always welcome to make inquiries of me, Jim."

Now Jim did hiccup out a laugh and Spock seemed to find that highly interesting. "What do I have bonds to other people?"

Spock eyebrow dropped sharply, his face schooling itself flat. "All life forms have bonds, Jim. With few exceptions, only telepaths can access these bonds consciously. Just because we are not aware of something's presence does not mean it is not there. It simply means we have not discovered it yet."

Jim nodded. "Oh."

"Is this the only reason you wished to speak to me?" Spock asked after several minutes of silence.

"What's it like being in love?" Jim blurted out.

They both sat in silence, with Jim excoriating himself for asking such a stupid question. Spock looked down at his hands, blinking repetitively as he seemed to be contemplating the question closely.

"I do not understand your question." He finally admitted.

Jim shrank on himself. "I just...you still love Uhura, right?"

A weird look came up in Spock's eyes. "My mother explained quite well that loving someone and being in love are two separate emotions. Nyota and I were not compatible, for several reasons."

Jim curled his knees up to his chest, feeling incredibly awkward at the mention of Spock's mother. "Sam never got that. Mom loved dad. Even though I'd never seen them together, I knew it. But even being _in_ love, even loving someone with everything you have isn't always practical. There other considerations."

"Indeed." Spock shifted closer to him. "I will admit that I am confused by this topic, however."

Jim shrugged a little. "I can't even always follow my brain...but...uh...I feel like we need to talk. So I figured if we just started talking I'd get there eventually...where ever there is."

"Indeed?" Spock glanced away for a moment. "I was informed of your injury by Mr. Scott."

Jim winced, looking at his hands. "They're mostly better. Still a bit stiff, but pretty good."

"May I see?" Spock reached out.

Tentatively, Jim gave him one of his hands. Spock went through the process of flexing Jim's fingers and hand, checking his range of mobility and grip. Jim was familiar with the process. This wasn't his first hand injury. Spock's fingers were deft in their mission of inspecting Jim's hand. The ache he had been feeling the last few hours was easing out of his palm and Jim felt for the first time since the stupid accident like his hand wasn't trying to lock up in a claw permanently. Spock released his hand and waited patiently for the next. He didn't have to wait long.

Spock inspected it with the same methodical intent as the other. Jim watched with detached intensity. Spock's hands were about the same size as his, but his fingers were a bit longer. That seemed really strange to him, and he wasn't really sure why it was so interesting. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but Jim hadn't shown up just to get a hand massage. He really did need to talk to him at some point or another.

"I get panic attacks when I think about you dropping the shield on the bond." There, he'd said it.

Spock just stared at him for a moment before a displeased look ghosted through his features. "Why did you not inform me of this earlier?"

"I didn't really know how to talk about it." Jim admitted, drawing his hands back to wrap them around his knees.

"Jim, if the bond is causing you mental distress, we will have it removed."

"No." Jim yelped, half leaping on top of Spock like if he didn't Spock would go do that immediately. "It hasn't even been a week yet. I just...I don't want to have to worry about being in a dangerous situation. If something's happening and you absolutely need to drop the shield, because of either of us, I want to be able to act, rather than loose my mind over it. I want to fix it, not remove it."

"What do you suggest?"

Jim took a deep breath. "I'm not sure I'm ready to have you in my head, but we need to work on this...so...I want you to drop the shield."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "This will likely cause you to panic."

"I know. I know." Jim worried his lip, wincing when he scraped the cut. "So I'm going to ask you really nicely not to freak out when I touch you."

"I see. If you believe this will help, then I will facilitate your actions. It is prudent that we make some attempt at lessening the danger of this bond." Spock agreed.

Jim took a deep breath and blew it out his nose, smiling nervously. Spock asked him if he was ready and Jim asked him to wait a bit as he stilled his nerves. Quirking an odd smile at him, Jim nodded, one hand on Spock's knee. He certainly hoped that would be enough. Spock nodded back and took a deep breath. A second later Jim could feel that pull at the back of his mind. He felt panic bubble up in him and immediately tangled his fingers with Spock's.

Spock eased the barrier back between them, having familiarized himself with it so he would not need to enter Jim's mind to construct the shield. He did not remove his hand from Jim's.

Jim fought down his nausea and shook his head. "That was worse than I remember. It feels like...like I'm supposed to be reaching out but I'm frozen in place."

Spock considered that for a moment before nodding. "Vulcans create bonds telepathically, so they are much stronger than the bond any normal human would posses. Because the bond is telepathic in nature, your katra wishes to respond telepathically, but is unable to do so."

"So that's why your dad said telepathic contact helped? Because it...accustoms humans to telepathic contact, or because it helps them be able to use the bond without a normal level of telepathy?"

"It is likely the first." Spock glanced at their hands. "My mother expressed difficulty in communicating with my father through their bond."

"Oh...Okay." Jim stared at their hands a moment, flushing. "Let's try that again."

"Jim-"

"Listen, Spock. If it's just getting used to it, then I want to keep trying. This is the safest way to do it." Jim had fixed him with a patented Captain Kirk stare.

"Very well. We shall attempt again to lower the shield. This shall be the last time for now."

"Two more." Jim protested, raising his free hand with two fingers up to illustrate his point.

"Jim."

"Just twice."

"I do not believe this to be a wise decision."

Jim grinned. "It doesn't have to be. Don't worry. You won't hurt me."

"The risk to your mental stability is greater than I believe should be risked."

Jim flexed his hand, squeezing Spock's fingers lightly, a soft smile on his face. "I trust you Spock."

Spock tensed, eyes going wide. Jim had only a second to realize the enormity of what he just told Spock before Spock was asking if he was ready. Jim nodded dumbly, which was a bad idea, because he wasn't. He was half wrapped around Spock by the time he managed to re-erect the shield. Jim chuckled awkwardly, unpeeling himself.

"Oops."

"Jim...Do not take this so lightly."

Jim nodded, but he couldn't just convince himself that he needed the doom and gloom. He _did_ trust Spock. He didn't feel like he barely knew him and this whole thing had been so utterly confusing, but he knew he could trust Spock. The little voice that had been so keen on protesting he didn't know Spock well enough had now taken up the job of championing Spock's willingness to lie on his behalf. He was ignoring it.

"One more time." Jim promised.

Spock eyed him dubiously for a moment. "If you are sure."

Jim took a deep breath, thought about the feeling of being utterly alone, and looked into the deep brown eyes in front of him. He was utterly alone, locked away behind a wall. No one could reach him, complete isolation. No...not complete. He'd thought that once, but even his walls weren't impenetrable.

"I'm sure." Jim nodded, blue eyes locked on Spock's.

The shield dropped, and Jim felt like he was plummeting with it. He reacted immediately, slamming his eyes shut and grabbing blindly at Spock's hands. The connection didn't feel like near enough. Something seemed to shift, and he could feel Spock moving to rebuild the wall between them.

"Wait." Jim croaked out.

Spock did. Jim could still feel it, the deep sensation of being tugged on from his very core and not being able to reach back. The nausea seemed to be leveling off, though, without Spock shielding. He was still panicking, but Jim did what he did best. He let it wash over him, controlling it. Bravery wasn't the absence of fear. Fear was strong. Fear reminded him he was alive, reminded him there were things left that were worth losing, things worth fighting for. Fear meant hope, meant fighting. If you weren't fighting, if you didn't think you could win, you had no reason to be afraid.

Jim opened his eyes.

For a moment, he felt like he understood, because staring into Spock's eyes, he could feel the connection between them. He didn't have to be telepathic to read Spock's soul there. It was just a moment, but it was enough.

Jim took a shaky breath and eased his grip on Spock's hands, feeling blood rush back into his fingers. That must have been hurting Spock considerably, but he showed no signs of it. Jim glanced down at their hands and then up again at Spock's face. He could do this. He untangled his fingers, letting their hands just rest together. Jim smiled excitedly, his breathing still a bit erratic. Slowly, hesitantly, Jim pulled one hand away. It was shaking, badly, but Jim brought it up to scrub his fingers through his hair.

An image came to mind, unbidden, of him sitting in his room, staring down at a picture of a very young Sam, George Kirk holding him, ruffling his hair. He reached up, placing his hand in his hair, but his hands were small, and he couldn't even tell if he was doing it right. Little Jim glanced up at the mirror above his dresser, and was stunned by the pathetic image he saw there.

Spock eased the shield back in place, eyes inscrutable. Jim pulled his hand back a little too fast, feeling incredibly awkward. The weird elation he had been feeling at being so successful was almost completely gone, leaving an awkward hollowness in its place.

"It had not been my intent to pry." Spock started, but Jim just shook his head.

"It's okay."

Spock stood, flexing his hands a moment before placing them at the small of his back. "Has this proven beneficial, Jim?"

Jim nodded, stretching, but not standing. "Hey, I was able to pull myself away on my own, wasn't I?"

"Affirmative." Spock sounded a little strangled, which was strange to Jim.

What wasn't though? He couldn't exactly blame him, either. Here Spock had lie to save his life, and now he was stuck constantly smooshing his brain against an illogical human's. That and he had to suffer through Jim constantly groping about his hands. In no way was this normal, or probably the choice he would have ever made for himself.

"I feel like I'm ruining your life." Ah damn, where did that filter go when he needed it?

Spock turned to stare at him, one eyebrow practically hidden in his hairline. "You are not."

"You say that..." Jim waved his hand awkwardly, pulling his leg up onto the couch with the other. "But that doesn't change the fact that most people wouldn't really want to completely uproot their life and start digging around in my brain and making out with me...well, a fair number might want that last one, but not with the other strings attached. And those people aren't you."

"You are rambling." Spock cocked his head to the side. "I will admit that this has been a drastic change, but I would not have done so were I not willing."

"It isn't like you had much choice." Jim snorted. "You're too loyal to let me die and you didn't realize you'd need to babysit my brain when you said you'd rather be bonded to it than to some stranger's."

"I think you would find I would have been significantly less pleased with my current position if I were forced both to serve without you and to share my mind with once such as the Vulcan who assaulted you." Somehow Spock managed to sound completely honest and not indecorous and a little more serious than Jim was strictly comfortable.

Jim chuckled. "You say that to all the Starfleet captains you're mock engaged to."

"Indeed." Spock agreed to a sputtering laugh. "As you are the only Starfleet captain I have such an engagement to, that would be correct."

"Now I'm feeling sorry for myself." Jim muttered, shaking his head.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I can't believe I've been missing this." Jim gestured between them, a pained look in his eyes. "How often don't I laugh at your jokes?"

Spock hesitated, like he was going to deny ever making jokes for a moment. "It is not a frequent occurrence that you find humor in anything I have said."

Jim frowned. "I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to apologize Jim. At the time, you did not derive humor from my 'jokes' so you did not laugh. It is frequent that people do not find humorous with a colleague what they would with a friend." Spock's eyes looked just a little pinched.

Damn that hurt. "You are my friend. You have been and you will always be my friend."

Jim felt something weird clench in his chest. Why was he getting so emotional saying that? Why was he so afraid of how Spock would respond?

He had nothing to fear, though, because Spock's big brown eyes softened. He felt like a weight was off his chest. Yeah, he'd screwed up before, but he wasn't in his ivory tower anymore. Spock had saved him. And maybe that did make him sound just a bit like a fairytale princess, but he was going to ignore that. As long as Bones didn't hear about that Jim's pride would still be intact.

"And you as well, Jim." Spock almost whispered.

Jim bit his lip, and immediately regretted it as he split it open again. Spock leaned down, catching Jim's chin so he could inspect the damage there. Jim went red, incredibly uncomfortable with anyone staring that intensely at his mouth. Spock swept his thumb of Jim's bottom lip clearing the blood momentarily from the raw cut. It scraped awkwardly, a little painful, but Jim was just confused.

"It does not appear you need medical assistance, however I would recommend that you cease biting your lip, Jim." Spock released him, wiping the blood from his hand on his pants.

Jim sucked on his lower lip, avoiding Spock's eyes. "I'll try to remember that."

Spock hesitated a moment, before resting his hand on Jim's head, his fingers twining through his hair instantly. Jim snapped his head up in surprise. Spock's cheeks were a mint green, his eyes just a bit too wide. Jim felt his cheeks heat too, was aware that he was probably cherry red. Spock's long fingers felt surprisingly comfortable in his hair, comforting. A second later Jim was reminded of what most people do with a fist full of his hair and the fuzzy warm feeling in his gut disappeared. Spock didn't linger though, withdrawing immediately.

He wasn't going to apologize for overstepping his bounds, but he would not push further.

Jim fought down a pout. How was it fair that he just got more out of sorts while Spock managed to straighten himself out and stop being so weirded out by the entire situation? Jim stood, and tripped immediately over his blasted shoes. This was why he wasn't allowed things with laces. Spock caught him easily, blinking in surprise.

Jim blushed. Spock's eyelashes were actually pretty long.

"Sorry." Jim murmured, highly aware of just how close their faces were.

"You have not transgressed." Spock was speaking just as softly.

It felt weird. Jim could feel the movement of air from Spock's lips shifting so close to his own. It was hard to focus on anything, because Spock was so close, so Jim let his eyes say half-focused on Spock's. He could feel Spock's warmth keenly, aware of the heat of his lips. His mouth was tingling from it, almost an indescribable sensation. Suddenly the room felt much hotter than it had a second before.

"Why is it so warm in here?" Jim wondered absently, still trying to process the new sensation.

"Forgive me." Spock seemed to hesitate, like he wasn't sure what he was asking forgiveness for. "I neglected to take into account your differing physiology. The room is currently ideal for Vulcan physiology."

"Oh." Jim huffed out an amused breath. "It's your room. You don't have to apologize."

"Lower temperatures are of little consequence. I will adjust it from here on out."

Jim considered that for a moment. "Right. We need to talk about next time."

Spock pulled back. Jim felt a little colder, but he ignored it. Jim tugged his shirt a little to straighten it and smiled awkwardly.

"What do you wish to discuss?"

"Well, I'd like to know if there's going to be a next time..." Jim felt shy rather suddenly and that didn't suit him at all.

"I am amendable to this." Spock considered him for a moment. "Though perhaps not as frequent, given the strain on both your mental health and my hands, Jim."

Jim gaped. "How did you manage to just insult me and sound worried about me in the same breath?"

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "I do not believe I have done any such thing."

"Sure you didn't." Jim smirked. "I should probably go now. It's late and I actually need to sleep some time before my shift."

"Indeed."

Jim proceeded to nearly trip again on his shoe lace. Spock knelt down inspecting it for only a moment before taking up the lace and tying a quick and efficient bow in it. Jim wasn't sure why, but that was really awesome. Spock glanced up at him, both eyebrows raised.

"A most illogical choice in footwear, Jim."

Jim grinned. "They match."

Spock looked him over, a little more intensely then when Jim first stepped in the room. Slowly, he rose to his feet, looking down slightly at Jim, still observing. Jim tried not to giggle as Spock clearly looked for some hint of red. James T. Kirk did not giggle. It never happened.

"I admit, I do not see how it connects in any manner to your other clothing."

Jim smirked. "Use your imagination."

He sauntered out of Spock's room with a simpering grin. He could feel his eyes lingering on his ass until the door slid shut. Good to know he got the message. A few people still heading to their rooms were giving him looks, but he ignored it completely. He was practically skipping as he entered his room. He then looked at the piles of clothes around his room and felt a moment of horror.

He was just flirting with Spock.

He was just flirting with Spock about his _underwear_.

He was just flirting with Spock about his underwear, and Spock had checked out his ass.

That totally happened.

Jim groaned, flopping down on his bed. What the hell was that all about? Jim didn't have many friends he just flirted with. It didn't mean anything, but still. It was a closeness he didn't have with many people. He wasn't comfortable, knowing most people wouldn't understand. So it was something he only did with people he knew wouldn't misunderstand. People who wouldn't mind. People who would humor him and flirt back. People who could stand the wrong impressions, which was why Jim didn't flirt with Bones in front of people who didn't know it was just joking.

People he didn't work with.

But Jim had already noticed once that he sounded awfully flirty with Spock.

Groaning, Jim rolled over to begin the process of getting ready for bed. He leaned down to untie his shoes and froze. He just couldn't believe Spock had actually tied his shoe for him. There was no reason for that to be as cool as it was. Jim kicked his shoes off, deciding it was more efficient than having to untie and retie them. He managed to kick most of his clothing into a pile in front of the dresser in the process of changing.

As he settled himself into bed, he took one last lingering look at his hands. Tentatively, he reached out, shifting his gaze from his hand to the wall beyond it. Somewhere past that wall was Spock.

Jim turned out the lights, curling around his pillow.

… .. . .. …

"Captain." Uhura sounded almost amused. "You're receiving correspondence from Admiral Pike again. You really should just take his message."

Jim sighed. A large part of him agreed with her. He should just take it there and at least have the cushion of his crew being around so that Pike couldn't get onto any particularly dangerous topics. His damn propriety and that little voice screaming to keep his business out of the crew's eyes insisted he should take it in private. The rest of him was childishly pouting and hoping if he ignored it long enough he wouldn't have to deal with it.

"Fine. Send it to the conference room." Jim rose. "Sulu, take the conn. Spock, with me."

Spock raised an eyebrow, but did as he was directed. Their reliefs were quick to fall into place. In the privacy of the conference room, Jim gave Spock a pleading look. The last seven correspondences Pike had sent were increasingly agitated and only moderately amused. He was not pleased the Jim wasn't explaining everything to him.

"I believe this is, as the doctor has stated before 'time for you to face the music' Jim." Spock quirked an eyebrow. "I do not know if it is wise to tell Admiral Pike the truth. I will defer to your judgment on this matter."

"This is half your fault."

"I am aware. I am willing to accept responsibility as well."

Jim nodded, leaning forward to rest his head on Spock's shoulder because he was tired damn it. Spock hesitated a moment before reaching up to rest his hand on the back of Jim's head. If Jim could see his face, he would see it was grass green. Jim couldn't from where he was at, but Pike could as soon as the view screen popped up.

"Am I interrupting?"

Jim leapt a good three feet from Spock, straight into attention. "Pike."

"I guess that answers most of my question." Pike snorted, looking between the two of them. "Now I want to know why my two favorite boys didn't tell me they were in a relationship."

Jim flushed. "We aren't...er...it's complicated."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Quite."

Pike frowned. "I just got a paper across my desk informing me of a Vulcan bonding ceremony or something to that effect. If you aren't in a relationship, you're in dangerous territory boys. I won't lecture you on the stupidity of lying about this, because you know better. I don't believe either of you is stupid enough to actually lie about being in a relationship. I understand it may be complicated enough you aren't ready for labels yet, but keep in mind that other people need a label for it. You are an interesting shade of violet Jim."

He was. It was an interesting sensation, too. "I understand."

Pike leaned forward, smirking. "I don't think it'll be a problem. It's pretty clear you two are working it out."

"I do not understand your meaning." Spock fixed him with a highly questioning look.

Pike shook his head. "Don't worry about it Spock. But you two should really try not to get caught in such compromising positions."

The both blushed, glancing at each other. If only that was as easily done as it was said. They weren't even in a real relationship and Jim was sure they'd been caught in more compromising positions than Spock and Uhura had even been.

"How does that even work?" Jim asked himself out loud.

"What?" Pike hummed.

"It's just..." Jim glanced apologetically at Spock. "When he was with Uhura he was a picture of decorum, but he and I keep ending up in embarrassing situations."

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed. I have noticed this tendency as well."

Pike tried not to laugh, he really did. "It's easier for a civilized man to act as a savage then it is for a savage to act civil."

"What?" Jim frowned, furrowing his brow.

Spock looked no closer to understanding Pike than Jim. "A strange observation, Admiral."

"Perhaps." Pike smiled. "I expect you to file an actual report about your relationship. There is paperwork and you know it. Congratulations boys."

Pike cut the communication off. Jim and Spock stood in silence for a long moment before Jim finally sighed and started rubbing at his face.

"Why is there always paperwork?" He groaned.

"I do not know." Spock admitted. "I had believed we could avoid filing such a report at this juncture, but it would appear the news report has made it necessary."

Jim had to smile. "Still...even if it isn't a real relationship...I'm glad that Pike approves."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Fascinating."

Jim's smile dropped. "What? Why is that fascinating?"

"You are always fascinating Jim."

Jim flushed. "Just for that I'm going to make you fill out the paperwork on your own."

Spock raised both eyebrows slightly. "Indeed? Very well Jim."

"Wait." Jim frowned. "I have a distinct feeling I don't want that...I'll help you fill it out later. Um...over dinner?"

Spock's eyes widened a bit and his ears went green. "As you wish captain."

Spock practically ran from the room then. Jim scowled. Did he say something? Because Spock was doing that stupid, cute, totally-not-emotionless blushing thing again. Jim silently scratched out that second one and promptly ignored it. He nearly patted himself on the back over not being so weirded out by those thoughts, but he'd really rather not pay attention to them at all because then he could pretend they didn't happen.

He sauntered back onto the bridge absently lost in thought. He glanced over to where Spock was leaning over his station. He heard a snicker or two and tore his eyes from Spock to see people trying not to look in his direction. A second later he realized how that must have looked and huffed into his chair, face at least three different shades of red. He wasn't staring at Spock's ass.

He really wasn't.

He glanced over. It was a pretty nice ass.

Damn it.

Jim sunk down lower in his seat, staring at his PADD. It wasn't anything. Jim was just looking at him. No harm in looking. Absolutely nothing weird about it. It wasn't important. Spock probably wouldn't even be phased by it. Hell, he'd been staring at Jim's ass the night before. It was just observing.

If it weirded him out, if he even noticed, then Spock could bring it up over dinner.

Oh. Oh god. Was he really going on a date with his first officer?

No. Paperwork. People didn't do paperwork on dates. Not even Spock. And Jim had only done that once and it was the worst date he had ever been on. He hadn't even gotten a goodnight kiss. Not that he wanted a goodnight kiss. This wasn't even a date. Because they weren't in a real relationship, just an official one.

Well that was a bit confusing.

He glanced over, and flushed as he realized Spock was still standing. "Sit down already!"

Spock whirled around to look at him, blinking, as did most of the crew. "Captain?"

Jim straightened, ignoring the bridge crew. "You're going to hurt your back doing that. Just sit down."

Spock winged up an eyebrow. "Your concern has been noted Captain."

"Spock." Jim growled, recognizing that tone. "Don't just ignore me."

"I am not, Captain."

Jim pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes and glaring. "Then why are you still standing?"

"I am currently engaged in discussion with you, Captain. I will take a seat when we have concluded our discussion." Spock cocked his head to the side.

Jim stood sharply. "Are you patronizing me?"

Spock seemed alarmed for a moment, before an impassive look overtook his face. "No, Captain. I am not."

"Sorry." Jim gestured vaguely, flopping back into his chair and rubbing his face with his free hand. "I'm sorry Spock."

After just a second, Jim felt a hand settle on his shoulder. He looked up to see Spock giving him a concerned look. Slowly, Spock knelt next to the Captain's chair.

"Jim...are you unwell?" His voice was soft.

He smiled sardonically. "No. I'm alright. I'm just...driving myself crazy here. I'll be fine."

Spock didn't look relieved by that. "Jim-"

Jim grabbed his hand, squeezing lightly. "I'm okay Spock. Really. I'm sorry if I worried you."

"Captain." Uhura called.

Spock straightened, pulling himself away and going to sit at his station. Jim whirled around to look at Uhura. She was giving him quite a look, and Jim didn't know what he had done to deserve that. She seemed somewhere between annoyed and amused.

"Yes Lieutenant?" Jim hummed, valiantly acting like that didn't just happen on the bridge.

She smirked at him. "The entire crew is here, if you need anything."

Jim flushed, turning back to his PADD and sinking in his chair. "Noted, Lieutenant. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**Poor Jim. He doesn't even get to have his moments. Uhura's just trying to make it easier on him, honest. The awkward will get worse, I promise.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Still don't own Star Trek. I know, sad isn't it?**

**I find it mildly humorous that I had said something about expecting it to take about two week in between chapters and that is not what is happening at all. Oh well. Enjoy.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

Jim didn't actually know how he ended up in the position he was in. He was aware that he must have invented a new shade of red with his face though.

Chekov and Scotty were standing in the still open door to the observation deck, equal looks of pure shock on their faces. Jim couldn't blame them. He'd have had a similar look if he'd walked in on himself in this kind of position.

Saying he was sprawled out on a couch would be neglecting to mention the fact that he was actually laying on top of Spock. He was somewhat nestled between his legs, propped up against his chest with his head somewhere between his chest and shoulder. He was balancing a PADD on his knee, with Spock's hand rather firmly gripping his hip, long fingers burning a brand up towards his stomach from where they were splayed against bare skin. Jim's hand that wasn't clutching at the PADD was tangled with Spock's, draped half over the back of the couch.

"Jim!" Scotty broke off his surprise, rushing forward. "For god's sake lad, tell me ye're all right!"

"I vill get doctor!" Chekov announced, bolting the other direction.

Jim struggled to get up, and found Spock had a very tight grip on him. "Do not attempt to move yet Jim."

Jim gulped. "I...What just happened?"

He craned his neck to look up and saw him staring down with nearly pinprick pupils. "We shall discuss with Doctor McCoy a renewed assessment of your psi-rating."

The last few seconds came racing back to him with a vengeance. The had been discussing the stupid paperwork. Jim was pacing around, while Spock sat primly on the edge of the couch. Jim had started to get bored, which was probably a bad show. Given Spock had been in his head a few times now, he really doubted seeing him bored was going to be the thing that made him decide he was an incompetent officer.

And that whole in the head thing had been the problem, hadn't it?

Jim got bored, so he went wandering in his own head. He'd found the bond, surprisingly easily and curiosity got the better of him. He poked it, mentally, gently. That didn't do anything, but the fact that he could poke it at all peaked his interest, so he did it again, harder.

Turns out he knows absolutely nothing about his own mental capabilities, because he shattered the shield on it. Spock had barely gotten to his feet when Jim collapsed backwards, catching him but not being able to support his weight from the position he was in. Thus the falling to the couch. Jim's head was pounding something awful and dimly he realized Spock had enacted a rather hasty shield.

"Sorry..." Jim groaned, dropping the PADD to bring a hand to his head. "Are you alright Spock?"

"I was not harmed." Spock tightened his grip on Jim's hip. "The emotional residue will subside shortly."

"Didn't mean to do that." Jim murmured, vision a bit hazy.

"Jim!" Bones burst through the door to the observatory, bag in hand and panic firmly affixed to his expression. "Good god man. What happened?"

Spock's face tightened. "Jim violently removed the shielding on our bond."

Scotty straightened, a look of shock on his face. "Ye're bonded?"

McCoy narrowed his eyes at him. "Not a word about it. Get out of here Scotty. This falls under doctor patient problems."

"Aye." Scotty nodded furiously. "I'll keep quiet...Ye worried me half to death Jim."

Jim smiled weakly. McCoy watched him a long moment until he was gone and engaged a lock on the room. The look on his face when he returned it to Jim was chilling in just how scared and serious it was.

"Your tricorder readings both look alright. High on adrenaline and dopamine..." McCoy was breathing heavily, trying to will down his panic. Jim wondered a bit at what Chekov had said. "I need you to talk to me, both of you. Jim, what were you even thinking, poking around telepathic shields? Do you not remember a thing I said about your psi-rating? Didn't I tell you to be careful?"

"I would desire an explanation as to Jim's telepathic capabilities." Spock announced stiffly, though it was somewhat lessened by the almost casual way he was still sprawled out under Jim.

McCoy stared at Jim, who didn't seem particularly interested in being forthcoming. "Higher than most humans, but considered non-existent for all intents and purposes. If I had to guess, I'd say it was a combination of the slightly higher effect and the supposedly easy connection of your bond that is making it easier for Jim."

"Fascinating. I would have desired to be made aware of this fact prior to our bonding." Spock glanced down at him. "However, it is no longer prudent. You may be interested to know, Jim, that it is possible, with practice, that you could become adept at communicating through a bond such as ours."

Spock flushed a second later, because the full implications of the bond being fully open really sank in a bit too late. He blamed the momentary confusion and lack of mental control on the shock of the violently cleared shielding. Jim seemed to perk up a bit though, a wide look in his eyes. He immediately seemed to think of something, however, and sank deeper against Spock's chest, pouting.

"Right now there are some problems to that." Jim reminded. "First, I clearly can't be trusted with my own mind. Second, as we've already noticed, it takes all my concentration to be able to barely be touching you when the shield is down. Let alone mess with our connection in my head."

"How do you know that?" McCoy asked, unamused.

"Er...practice?" Jim smiled sheepishly.

"Jim, you are causing physical pain to my hand." Spock informed him, because Jim's grip had tightened considerably.

Jim squeaked, attempting to yank his hand back and failing given how well wrapped up they were in each other. For a good minute they disentangled themselves fully. When they were separated, McCoy started looking over Spock's hand while Jim forced himself into the far corner of the couch. He felt a spike of white hot rage when McCoy's gloved fingers flexed around Spock's, assessing. They both turned to him in surprise at the rather vicious growl that ripped out of his throat.

"You okay there Jim?" McCoy asked tentatively, drawing away from Spock.

Jim was horrified he'd just done that. "I don't know...I just..."

Spock looked like he was almost smirking. "I do not believe he was pleased with you touching my hands, doctor."

McCoy frowned, furrowing his brow and glancing between them. "What?"

Jim scowled. "What is this bond doing to my head?"

"Do not worry Jim, I have noticed a similar distaste on occasions where I have recently readjusted the shield on our bond." Spock raised an eyebrow at the curious look. "Just as the bond induces a sense of comfort from closeness, it it likely to produce a sense of possessiveness until it has properly finished setting."

"You're saying it brainwashes him into wanting you?" McCoy snarled.

"Quite inaccurate, Doctor and to the contrary, it is likely to reduce any such desires." Spock cocked his head to the side. "However, as the bond is stronger than that of a normal human bond formed of friendship, a sense of propriety and possession does exits. I am Jim's friend, first and foremost, and belong to him. It is natural for humans to be jealous if they perceive their friends have turned to another for aid they believe they should be considered for primarily."

Jim's face was hot. Spock belonged to him. He knew he was just talking about the bond, trying to explain it to McCoy, but the same little part that had been ready to smack him for touching Spock's hands was now doing a victory lap in his brain. Okay. That made sense. It was a bit like owning a dog and watching it run to greet your best friend before you when you both entered your apartment. He was jealous. He could handle that.

"_It was prudent they remember who you belonged to."_

"You knew!" Jim sat bolt up right, pointing an accusatory finger at Spock.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Jim?"

"_One is both possessing and possessed by their mate, touching and touched…"_ Jim parroted, a sneer on his face. "You knew the entire time you pointy eared jerk."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I believe I already warned you that Vulcan relationships were more demanding then a human would be accustom to."

"We aren't in a relationship." Jim protested. "Not really..."

"Indeed." Spock nodded. "You were informed that the bond would complicate our ruse. If you wish then the bond can be-"

"If you talk about yanking this bond out of my head one more time I _will_ punch you in the face." Jim snapped. "If I want rid of it then I'll tell you. Until then you can suffer through it or decide that _you_ don't want to be bonded to me anymore. Stop trying to convince me I don't want this here."

"Want's an awful strong word Jimmy." McCoy smirked. "I thought you were tolerating it until you found the best solution for both of you."

Jim flushed. "Shut up Bones."

McCoy stood, shaking his head. His eyes caught sight of a line of blue from where he still hadn't corrected his shirt's displacement. "Good lord, are you seriously wearing those?"

Jim glanced down and caught sight of his boxers peeking out of his uniform. "What? What's wrong with my choice in underwear?"

"First, I know those aren't regulation. Second, I thought I got rid of those things in the academy."

"I bought new ones." Jim shrugged. "The ones you threw away weren't science blue anyway."

"I am curious, why is Doctor McCoy expressing interest in your choice of undergarment?"

Jim blinked over at him, and flushed. "No reason."

"Just the solicitous writing printed across his boxers." McCoy smirked.

"It isn't solicitous! It's flirty." Jim protested.

"May I inquire as to the writing you have printed on your undergarment, Jim?" Spock was looking at him with one eyebrow raised, far too amused by the things he was watching.

Jim grumbled something under his breath and McCoy burst out laughing. "You've outdone yourself this time."

"I apologize, I was unable to understand you, Jim." Spock glanced between them, curious. "Please repeat yourself at a greater volume."

Jim flushed, glancing down at his regulation boots. "It says 'talk nerdy to me' in Vulcan."

Spock's eyebrows rocketed up to his hairline and he glanced down towards Jim's hips. "Fascinating."

Jim tugged his command shirt down, covering the flash of blue. This was suddenly a quite awkward conversation. Jim hadn't chosen the boxers written in Vulcan because of Spock. That would be ridiculous. Spock was never going to see his underwear. He had chosen it because that was probably the nerdiest language it came in. Not because knowing Vulcan was nerdy, but it totally was if you weren't Vulcan or a linguist, but because Vulcans were supremely intelligent. If anyone could talk you into an orgasm about warp physics, it was a Vulcan.

Though maybe it was a bit unhealthy and nerdy to be that turned on by physics.

McCoy slapped Jim on the shoulder. "Try not to faint any time soon. Okay. You've just about given me a heart attack."

Jim flushed. "Sorry."

Spock waited until McCoy left before picking up the discarded PADD. "Do you wish to continue, or shall I finish the paperwork on my own?"

Jim scuffed his boot on the ground. "I tried to pay attention...I guess, if you don't mind finishing it on your own."

"I believe the process will be considerably quicker." Spock agreed immediately.

Jim rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Okay. I can take a hint. I'll see you later Spock."

"Goodnight Jim."

Jim paused, almost to the door, and threw a warm smile back. "Sleep tight Spock."

… .. . .. …

Jim laughed. He couldn't help it. He'd been warming up in the gym, preparing for another training session with Spock, when he ran straight into him. It wasn't a light hit, either, but Spock managed to keep both of them from falling. Jim's ear-buds, because he love old technology damn it, were half wrapped around both of them. In the process of untangling them, he discovered that the wire had somehow managed to wrap itself through the belt loop on Spock's pants.

"Talk about quantum entanglement." Jim snickered, even as he made to unplug the earphones.

"Quantum entanglement-assisted transportation was first proposed on earth in the year 1993." Spock murmured. "Entanglement swapping is generally not considered possible on the scale necessary for the wire of your device to be in the position it is without outside mechanical interference."

Jim flushed, staring up at Spock with a half-giddy smile. "Are you accusing me of intentionally getting wrapped up?"

"To the contrary, Jim. I sincerely doubt it was caused by your interference." Spock quirked an eyebrow.

Jim tried to ignore the thunder of blood rushing through his ears as he caught that implication. Sneaky Vulcan. Jim hadn't even seen his hand on the cord at any point. Spock had already walked off towards the locker rooms to change, leaving Jim standing there stupidly holding an unplugged wire in the air. Flushing deeper, he raced after him.

"Will you change into something more conducive to fighting?" Spock asked when Jim followed him.

Jim glanced down, recalling that he _was_ in his uniform still. "Probably a good idea."

Jim glanced up in time to see Spock stripping off his shirt and flushed, looking away quickly. He promptly shook off his embarrassment, reminding himself that it was hardly the first time he'd seen Spock shirtless and they were both guys so it didn't matter. Jim tugged off his command tunic, watching Spock from the corner of his eye. He was always so quick and efficient when he needed to change for a mission. Now, though, he seemed to be taking his time, folding each article of clothes carefully _before_ replacing it. Jim was haphazardly throwing clothing on the bench behind him and he damn well knew it.

Spock glanced over at him when he realized he was staring.

His eyes immediately flicked down to the distinctly not regulation boxer-briefs with '01110000 01100101 01110010 01101101 01101001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 0100000 01110100 01101111 0100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01100101 0100000 01100001 01100010 01101111 01100001 01110010 01100100' printed across the front.

"Shut up." Jim flushed, yanking a pair of shorts from his locker.

"You continue to wear highly illogical underwear, Jim." Spock returned to his own matter of dressing. "I said nothing."

Jim grumbled something about it being perfectly logical as he dug around for his hoodie. Okay, so maybe Bones was right and he needed to clean that thing out every once in a while. He never really found time. God, did his crew ever notice that? How embarrassing was that? Usually Jim only came to the gym when no one else was around. Currently no one was in the locker room, but the gym was still more populated than he was used to.

He'd had that qualm, last time, but he'd changed in his room and mostly ignored it. He glanced sideways in time to catch sight of Spock pulling a loose tank top on.

His back muscles flexed impressively.

Jim quelled his odd desire to reach out and feel them flex under his palm by slamming his locker. Spock glanced over at him, closing his own locker.

"If you are ready, we will move to one of the training rooms."

Jim nodded, half racing off. Spock followed at a more sedate pace. His mind happened to wander to Jim's illogical choice of underwear. On three occasions in as many days their discussions had alluded to or centered on Jim's undergarments. It was highly strange. His eyes fell to Jim's hips. They swayed more when he was angry. Spock had noticed the slight swagger become more pronounced on numerous occasions when Jim was expressing agitation.

His hips were swaying considerably.

"You are agitated, Jim."

Jim glanced back over his shoulder. "No I'm not."

"You are." Spock cocked his head to the side. "Have I transgressed in some way?"

"What? No." Jim turned, putting his hands on his hips. Spock drew to a stop just in front of him. "Why would you think that?"

"You expressed signs of frustration shortly after I deemed your choice in undergarments illogical. It is only logical to assume I have offended you in some way."

Jim blushed. "What do I care if you like my underwear? It's nothing. I'm just...thinking about my relationship with the crew."

Spock hesitated. "Jim...I do not know why you continue to have difficulty with this matter. The crew-"

"Can we just drop it?" Jim asked, a pained smile on his face.

"Affirmative." Spock nodded.

They had reached the private room. Jim was not fighting with Spock out in the open mats anymore, because he was tired of being gawked at. Yeah, it was a bit soon for another lesson, and not a great idea knowing he had been having a hard time the day before because of that stupid bond, but he needed something to do with his nervous energy. He was barely getting to sleep at night he was so charged. And when he did...well...it wasn't very restful sleep.

Jim stretched out a bit, glad for his warm-up. His muscles were pleasantly loose and he couldn't wait to get a proper burn in them. Spock was stretching out himself, and Jim allowed himself to watch. Spock was incredibly graceful. It made Jim feel a bit inadequate. Spock moved through every motion, every act with pure control. It was amazing, soothing. Jim felt clumsy and wild in comparison.

Spock started him with the basics again. They came a little easier that time, and Jim felt surprised by that. It was still a clumsy process, but somehow a touch better than before.

Jim was ecstatic. Spock managed to lead him through the motions much more rapidly than the time before, which meant a bit more repetition. Finally, Spock seemed to deem it acceptable because he stepped back and stopped jabbing him. Jim was grinning.

"I'm getting a little better!"

"Indeed." Spock looked him over. "Do you wish to spar?"

"You think that's a good idea?"

"I believe it is prudent that you actually attempt to make use of my lessons. If you are not trained for actual combat situations, then you will not be likely to use the skills you have amassed when they are most necessary." Spock shifted into a relatively basic position. "For them to be most effective, these techniques must be automatic, Jim."

Jim nodded. "Okay. Yeah. Let's try this."

It wasn't really sparing. It was shifting through the motions, slower than any fight would go. Spock would throw a punch or a kick and Jim would react. It wasn't bad, though. Jim threw a few punches, Spock corrected him, and he threw a few more. Spock was leading for the most part, directing the movement. Jim followed easily, body responding more naturally with each repetition. Spock kept the pace always just a bit faster than Jim was capable of doing perfectly. He understood exactly why.

He hadn't realized how quick they had gotten until he messed up. Spock struck a messy hit, shin against shin. Jim yelped hopping back and crouching down to cradle his shin in his hands.

"Ow."

"We will stop for now." Spock informed him, kneeling in front of him to look at his leg.

"I'm fine." Jim insisted. "That just stings. If I can't get used to a little pain then I can't fight."

"I believe it is quite clear you are more than adequate at ignoring your natural pain response." Spock raised an eyebrow. "You have proven yourself on numerous occasions to be capable of continuing a fight even in the event of injury. This is not something I have need of teaching you. We have been training for some time. It would be prudent to stretch your muscles and allow them to rest."

Jim nodded, pouting. "Fine."

"Do you require assistance with stretching?"

Jim flushed, shaking his head vigorously. No. He most definitely did not need Spock's hands all over his sweaty body, pushing him into contorting positions.

Spock proceeded with his own cool down and stretch out session without another word. Jim started his own, but soon found himself watching Spock again. It wasn't particularly conducive to actually properly stretching out. He was thinking he started to pick up a new hobby of Spock watching, though, because he couldn't peel his eyes away.

Actually...he had a whole chart that seemed to imply nothing was new about it. Fantastic. Along with all these evil emotion things, apparently he had developed an obsession with the way his first officer moved. And now that he already had it, he didn't have the first idea of how to get rid of it. It was like all of a sudden his brain was jumping up and down pointing at Spock going 'Oh! OH! How fucking fantastic is that? Did you see how he just raised his eyebrow there? How many emotions can a guy convey with just a quick flick of part of his face? Probe this right now James Kirk.'

Jim let out a whooping cough as he rather suddenly walked chest first into Spock's palm.

When had he started walking?

Spock was staring at him with a completely unreadable look in his eyes. "Captain, you can not follow me into the showers."

Jim blinked, looking around. The were in the locker room. The distinctly not empty locker room. Spock's hand felt like it was burning a hole through Jim's hoodie, but that was just ridiculous. Apparently Jim needed to stretch out better, because he felt like he was on fire, every muscle burning in anticipation. Well that was freaky.

Jim coughed, stepping back, but it only seemed to make his body feel even hotter. "Sorry. Wasn't paying attention to what I was doing."

"Indeed." Spock looked him over a moment.

It only lasted a moment, though. With one last lingering look Spock turned on his heel and entered one of the stalls. Jim stared at the door for a moment before storming off. Absently, he scooped up his clothes. He wasn't hanging around; he'd shower in his room.

… .. . .. …

Jim was sitting primly in his captain's chair, minding his own business, doing his paperwork. That was what good captains did when they were on duty. He had just pulled up his communications like he always did four hours into his shift. Maybe that was weird, but it was a habit he couldn't kick. Any real important notices from the admirals or anything special they had for a mission went through communications, but plenty of little things would get sent to him all the time. He flicked through the list, hesitantly ignoring the most recent message from Sam, because while he'd only sent a curt reply back, he didn't really want to find out if he had the control to read a message on the bridge.

Another message from his mother, labeled with the header 'So just how dexterous is he?' Jim did not find that funny at all. She kept sending him these completely innocent notes, or at least comparatively innocent, with horribly not innocent headers. The first time he'd nearly had a heart attack.

Jim froze when his eyes fell on the urgent message. It was bolded, listing off a string of words in the header saying it was an important correspondence from Starfleet. Jim gulped, wetting his lips a little as he opened it, feeling just a little paranoid. Urgent messages that weren't urgent enough to require an immediate contact were not good. Not good at all. His eyes flicked over it rapidly, and he could feel his hand ache as he gripped the PADD tighter.

No.

No. NO. **NO. **_**NO**_.

Jim stood, chucking his PADD at the main view screen in the same swift, all engrossing motion.

Everyone froze, turning to look at him with some mix of horror and awe. Jim could feel his teeth grit in his mouth and his nails were digging into his palm and he was biting his tongue and it_ didn't hurt_.

"Captain-" Spock began, but he paused, taking in Jim's posture.

"Captain." Uhura took over. "What are your orders?"

Jim let out a bitter laugh; a dangerous, pained, feral laugh. "No orders. As you were."

And suddenly Rand was standing next to him, offering back his PADD and the last thing Jim wanted was his PADD. The last thing he wanted was to read that message again and again and again and he knew, god he knew he was going to read it for days. But he wanted...he wanted...

"Spock." Jim hissed, flashing his hurting blue eyes at his first officer.

Spock took that as his cue to approach, absently taking the PADD from Rand when she looked ready to throw it into Jim's chair and run. "Captain?"

Jim let out that disgusted laugh again, tired, frustrated. "We need to talk."

Spock raised an eyebrow before giving the controls to Sulu and stalking out of the room. His eyes had yet to fall to the PADD. Jim didn't give him permission. He didn't know what he would find there. Didn't know what had caused the emotional outburst. Jim grabbed his hand rather violently and headed for the turbolift.

Spock stared at him, marveling once again at Jim's complete impropriety.

Jim keyed in the deck for his room and released Spock's hand. He leaned back against the wall of the turbolift with a thunk, running both of his hands over his face. Spock was just standing there, holding the PADD and staring at him and Jim hated that, but he couldn't get his throat muscles to work. It was tight, burning. Jim wanted to laugh, because this had to be some joke. Wanted to cry out in frustration. Wanted Spock to make it better, because he always knew how to make everything better.

Jim launched himself from the lift as the doors opened. Spock followed silently, PADD still behind his back, patient. They entered Jim's room silently, and he was remotely glad that Rand had seen fit to clean up the piles of clothes off his floor. Spock was waiting.

Jim turned and was almost floored by the intensity of the expression in those brown eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and Jim felt so guilty, so damn guilty. How could he ever make this right? How could he ever hope to fix the mistake that his own stupidity, his own pride had caused? Why couldn't he go back in time and shake himself by the shoulders, tell himself to open his eyes and throw charts and PADDs and anything to make himself see that he wasn't alone, had never been alone, before he ruined everything?

"Jim?" Spock dropped all pretense of formality, now that they were in private. "We are still on duty."

Jim choked out a laugh, wanted to sob instead. "I screwed up."

Spock took an aborted step forward, and a small part of him registered that Spock _never_ moved without intent. "May I inquire as to what has alarmed you, Captain?"

Captain. It was safe. There was nothing out of control about a captain. Not like Jim. Not like the man who's eyes must have been wild. Jim wanted to scoff, wanted to tell him it was a little too late. But he didn't. He snorted out a deep breath, righted himself. That was right. This wasn't about him. Not about Jim. This was about Captain Kirk and Commander Spock.

"I've received a formal warning that's going to go into both of our files." Jim announced.

Spock glanced down at the PADD in his hand. "What is the justification for this reprimand?"

Jim straightened, the captain coming forward naturally, that instinct to protect his crew filling him. "I'm being cited for undisclosed fraternization and unapproved relations with a crew member. I can only assume they're throwing the same accusations at you."

Spock straightened. "This is illogical."

"Over a month." Jim corrected. "According to Starfleet we have four weeks to disclose a relationship. We are only receiving a reprimand because it wasn't _that_ far off. According to them, we broke regulation and because an outside source reported it they have no choice but to make an example of us. The nice bureaucratic words they throw into reprimands to pretend they're sorry for them, but because of me this is on your _record_."

"Do not, Jim." Spock stopped him with a single look. "I should have taken into consideration the regulations when determining the date to ascribe to our relationship. I am responsible by causing this duplicity, in any event. Also-silence Jim-Also, though you were the one to propose it, our further deception was solely to my benefit. I apologize for the repercussions I have again caused you."

Jim growled, yanking the PADD from Spock's hand and throwing it to the bed somewhere behind him. He did _not_ like being silenced. "I'm a captain, Spock. I know better. I should have known better. Fuck...nothing good ever comes of relationships with your crew."

Spock tensed, gripping Jim's chin and forcing him to meet his eyes. "Do not speak in such a manner, Jim."

Jim froze. Spock was touching him. Spock was _touching_ him. He could feel pure anger and frustration coursing through those fingers. Spock was touching him and Jim felt like he was burning up. Spock's eyes were as black as space and he was _touching_ him and Jim felt like he was caught in the middle of a sun. Jim was on fire and he was frozen in place and Spock was touching him. Spock's grip was so firm, conveying more anger, more _something_ then Jim could process. And Jim felt like he was burning to a crisp, blackening under the pure-black-normally-brown eyes and that look was so hot and Jim felt like he'd been shoved out an airlock because he was _frozen_ and he couldn't _breath_.

Spock ripped his fingers away and Jim could swear they had been melted into his skin because it felt like Spock had taken a chunk of him when he pulled back.

Spock's nostrils flared and his eyes were still so dark, too dark. "I will hear nothing of this topic again."

Jim didn't like being silenced. "If you didn't care about me then I wouldn't be ruining your career."

He just couldn't keep his mouth shut, could he? No, he was angry and scared and guilty and Spock was telling him what to do. And Spock was still staring at him like that and Jim couldn't think. He felt almost feverish, hot, but he was shivering with the intensity of it and the rage. What was Spock _doing_ to him?

"You are a fool James Kirk." Spock managed to say so much, to have such a serious inflection, without it ever reaching his voice.

Jim pushed forward, into his space. Spock had pulled back because he didn't want to touch him, couldn't touch him. Not then. Not when he was holding down his emotions, keeping even the bond from touching those emotions. Jim had always had a certain skill set. His blue eyes were wide. He wasn't going to let Spock mollify him. Wasn't going to pretend it was okay and take the easy way out.

"Enlighten me." He ground out, for a moment every bit the cadet he echoed.

"My career is undamaged." Spock took a step back, more in control. "Further, if you can not understand why a member of your crew, why I, would choose to risk my career to save your life, then you are truly blind _Captain_."

"Then _enlighten_ me." Jim demanded. "Why do you care? Why did you ever care?"

Spock blinked, slowly. His patience must have been thin, the kind of ice Jim shouldn't be treading. "You are my friend."

"Bullshit." Jim snarled. "You don't know me. You don't _know_ me."

"I know more than you, apparently." Spock turned to leave.

Jim grabbed him, hard. "Do you think that's funny?"

Spock rounded on him, grabbing his shoulders firmly, face emotionless and eyes snapping with something indescribable. "There is nothing humorous about your actions Jim."

Jim couldn't breath. Couldn't think. Spock's voice melted something inside him, sent those curls of heat deeper. Spock's fingers flexed against Jim's arms and through the anger and confusion, Jim felt something unfurl inside him. Something deep and dark responded to the heat Spock created in him.

"Spock..."

Spock threw him back, hard. Jim yelped as he bounced against the bed, feeling the PADD digging into his back. For a moment Spock seemed to loom over him, dark eyes deeper than the universe itself. Spock was gone, out the door before Jim's brain could reboot. Jim sucked down icy air, feeling like it was the first thing he had been able to breath in a very long time. It was like cold water washing over a burn inside his throat and chest, almost painful.

Who was Spock to tell him he couldn't feel guilty? Jim had gotten a permanent mark on both of their records, small as it was. All because he'd gotten drunk and nearly gotten himself killed on a Starbase because...because he was an idiot. Because he couldn't look his crew in the eyes, because he found it easier to just pretend he didn't interact with them at all. Because if he wasn't attached then it was simply professional sympathy when someone died and no one would feel like he betrayed them or let them down. Because friends didn't let people with families die. Because if they didn't expect any better from him, if they didn't _rely_ on him, then he could pretend he hadn't failed them.

Jim wanted to feel sorry for himself. Wanted to whine that it wasn't fair. But that was what had gotten him into that mess in the first place.

Jim stood up, taking a deep breath and straightening himself out. _There are no no-win scenarios, Kirk. Pull yourself together. You've got this._

His pep-talk did not help near as much as he had hoped. Not in the slightest. He couldn't just hide in his room though. He was the captain. He _was_ responsible for his crew. And he needed to have a much better conversation with Spock once he wasn't feeling so completely pissed off. He should have known better, really. He was pissed and he knew he didn't think straight when he was angry.

Jim snagged his PADD, looking down again at the dreaded correspondence. It didn't matter. There was nothing more they could do. He and Spock were officially in a relationship according to the paperwork. Jim was never filling that stuff out again, and Spock sure as hell better not start lying and saying he was dating other people, so this was the last their records would see of it.

It didn't occur to Jim, until he was sitting down in the command chair, that his brain was doing that thing where it made decisions without consulting him. Apparently it had decided not only did he randomly get engaged to his first officer, he stayed that way. He fought down a blush and distinctly didn't glance over at his extremely tense first officer. The rest of the crew, however, seemed to have their eyes just about everywhere but on their work. Damn gossips.

Damn Spock for making him feel so guilty.

Jim pulled up the messenger on his PADD, hesitating only for a moment. 'Sorry.' Just one word.

It took an excruciatingly long time for Spock to respond. Jim had started to think he was intentionally being ignored.

'I accept your apology.' … 'Are you uninjured?'

Jim smirked a little. 'Not the first time I've been thrown down on a bed.'

'That does not answer my question, Jim.'

'I'm fine. Honest.' He peered down at it for a moment, considering what to say next. 'I _am_ sorry though.'

'You have already indicated as much.'

'Why do you put up with me when I'm such a jerk?' Oops. Hadn't he planned on having this conversation in private? Instead, he was fidgeting in his seat on the bridge, distracting Spock, and probably about to start another fight between them. Good job Jim, good job.

The response was even slower to come than the first. 'Because I enjoy your company.'

Jim wanted to make a smart-ass comment about enjoyment being illogical. To tease Spock relentlessly for actually liking him, even when he was a jerk. Anything to stop the warmth pooling in the corners of his eyes. It was just that easy for Spock. It didn't matter that Jim wasn't perfect, that he screwed up and didn't even know they were friends, because that was just Jim being Jim. And he _liked_ that.

'Can I' Jim tried not to swear as it sent the message when he was trying to delete it.

'I do not understand your query.'

Jim didn't groan, but it was a close thing. 'Never mind. I was going to rephrase it, but I sent it on accident. It wasn't important.'

It wasn't. Honestly. He wasn't just about to ask for a hug. He wasn't that weird. And Spock making him feel utterly appreciated in a completely weird way did not make him all touchy-feely. He didn't do touchy-feely. Not in the slightest. He didn't get so emotional over someone liking him for him that he wanted to hug and stuff. That was something little boys and teenage girls did...well...and him when he was drunk. But only with Bones. And only when Bones was drunk too. And only around Jim or Joanna's birthday.

Jim much preferred being sad on Joanna's birthday, because then he didn't feel so pathetic.

Digression. Jim looked back down at his PADD when it made a sound at him. Spock had responded.

'I understand that humans are often prone to censoring themselves. This is unnecessary, however.'

"Uh...Captain?" Jim snapped his head up to look at Sulu.

He blinked a couple times. "Yeah?"

Sulu grimaced, like he hadn't actually meant to speak. "You okay?"

Jim frowned. "Yeah, why?"

"Well..." Sulu glanced at Chekov, who sat up straighter.

"You vere hawing big smile." Chekov announced cheerily.

"Kind of a goofy grin, actually." Sulu said apologetically.

Jim flushed, turning off the messenger on his PADD. He coughed and drew himself up straight in his seat. "Ah. I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

Not embarrassed in the slightest.

… .. . .. …

"May I come in, Jim?"

Jim stepped out of his doorway, nodding dumbly. McCoy looked up from where he had been putting away his med kit, a frown on his face. Spock's eyebrow raised immediately at the sight of the Doctor. Jim rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, offering a seat to Spock wordlessly.

"Doctor McCoy." Spock greeted stiffly, not moving an inch.

"Spock." McCoy rose to his feet.

"Gee, isn't anyone going to say my name?" Jim huffed, folding his arms over his chest, not at all amused by their antics.

As if on cue, they both turned to him with looks describing exactly what they thought of his interruption "Jim-" And turned to each other with their own brand of horror as they realized what he just succeeded in.

Jim burst out laughing. "Much better!"

McCoy smiled, giving Spock a long-suffering look. "How are you Spock?"

"My health is adequate." Spock nodded, relaxing ever so slightly. "Is your own health acceptable?"

"Yeah." McCoy stood up, popping his back as he did. "Just double checking Jim's hands. Apparently they were giving him some trouble earlier. That and he has a rather suspicious set of bruises on his arms."

Spock flushed, green high on the apples of his cheeks. McCoy, seeing him thoroughly chastised for his purposes, smirked. Jim had the decency to look embarrassed. The look Bones had given him when he first stripped his shirt off and showed the purple-black hand prints had been a little terrifying. He immediately started asking what he had done to Spock to deserve that.

After a few moments of shouting himself blue, he proceeded to blush furiously and ask Jim if there was something he needed to tell him about his relationship with 'the hobgoblin'. Jim sputtered and cawed for a few minutes, completely unable to form a coherent thought in protest to that. Slowly, a shit eating grin spread across Bones' face and he burst out laughing. Apparently it had been too good of a joke to resist. Jim wasn't laughing. Nor was he laughing when Bones told him to live with the bruises. They just might remind you to treat him a little better, McCoy muttered absently, clearly still too amused. Like that made any sense.

"What was that you said, Jim? Something about him throwing you on your bed?" McCoy tutted, managing to keep a straight face, though it was a near thing. "I thought I said I didn't want details..."

"You seem to be harboring the erroneous assumption that Jim and I engaged in sexual activity while on duty." Spock bit back, having schooled himself into a particularly snarky raised eyebrow. "I assure you we would do no such thing while we should be on shift."

McCoy practically leered he had such a narrowed look filled with glee. "Am I in the way?"

"Knock it off!" Jim shouted, face hurting it burned so much.

They both turned to look at him, blinking like they had forgotten he was in the room. Considering it was his room, that was particularly awkward. Jim briefly wondered if you could get second degree burns from blushing, because he felt like it. McCoy shrugged apologetically, still smirking. Spock was an odd pale viridian color.

"I apologize Jim. It was not my intent to embarrass you, or imply that our relationship was sexual in nature." Spock's voice sounded so utterly stiff and flat as to be almost scary.

Jim tried not to choke on his saliva, gulped awkwardly, and turned his head so he didn't have to look at Spock. "What the heck is that, even?"

McCoy snorted. "Oh come on. I tease you all the time."

Jim opened his mouth to protest and froze. Oh. Was he so blind he couldn't even see that Bones had gotten to the point where he was comfortable teasing Spock? He knew there was nothing there and it was all a lie. So the teasing didn't mean anything. It was just giving him hell for having come up with such a ridiculous lie. And Spock..._joking_ back. Implying there was more to it than just the lie because it was _funny_. Jim buried his face in his hands, groaning and leaning back against the wall to his room.

"I'll figure this out eventually." Jim warned from behind his fingers. "Just you wait. You'll be sorry when I finally can understand it when you talk to each other."

"I have no doubt captain."

McCoy burst out laughing. Jim blinked for a moment, before frowning. "Oh really? And just what part of that don't you doubt?"

"Please clarify your inquiry."

"Uh huh." Jim crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes without any real malice.

"I suppose I should head out." McCoy picked up hid bag, smirk still lingering across his lips. "Stretch your hands. I don't need to deal with you again because your hands are so stiff you can't grip a stylus."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Thanks Bones. I'll talk to you later."

"Tomorrow maybe." McCoy glanced at Spock. "Be good. And have a good night."

"You too Bones." Jim mutter the exact same time Spock started speaking. "You as well Doctor."

He glanced between them before shaking his head. With a last wave over his shoulder, McCoy was out the door. Jim shifted his weight from foot to foot for a moment, not really sure where to begin. He almost wished McCoy was back in the room because it was marginally less awkward. Then he remembered what they had been talking about and had to struggle to keep the blush down.

"So...uh...did you need something?" Jim tried.

Spock turned to him, and for a split second Jim felt maybe Spock hadn't been joking, because those pure-black eyes were so harsh on him. Jim wasn't used to anyone looking at him like that if they didn't plan on devouring him. He blushed and the intensity eased. Spock glanced away, and when he looked back his eyes were almost chocolate.

"It had been my intent to pursue the conversation we were engaged in on the bridge." Spock paused there, not finding what he was looking for in Jim's face. "I shall refrain from questioning you further on the matter. I have overstepped my bounds."

Jim hesitated. Spock was still standing there, so stiff. He looked like he'd already been rebuffed. Jim didn't want to talk about what he had been about to ask him. Because that went back to asking for hugs and that was so sappy. Also, paranoid as it was, Jim wasn't so sure he wanted Spock's arms around him just that second. There was way too charged an air between them. It seemed most likely that Spock was still annoyed at him and trying not to let it show. Jim felt his lips twitch up slightly at the thought that he really _was_ below his shields.

"I've never heard you play your lute." Jim flinched at the eyebrow he got, wondering if maybe he'd just said something wrong.

"Indeed."

Jim chuckled at his flat tone, before a big grin split his face. "Are you trying to imply there's a reason for that?"

"I am in no way attempting to imply anything, Jim." Spock said with that little coquettish look in his eyes that begged for his words to be scrutinized just a little more closely.

Jim felt like the floor had gone out under him. "Spock...I..."

"Yes Jim?" Spock asked a bit too quickly.

"I'm _sorry_." Jim whispered, feeling like his voice was trying to choke him.

"I am aware of this."

Jim stepped a bit closer, wondered how he managed to get back to this thought. "Can I...C-could..."

Spock hesitated for a moment, looking like he didn't know what to do. He didn't know where to begin. Jim felt the slightest nudge, a soft brush, like Spock were just barely touching the shield erected between them. Jim wanted to touch back, wanted to pull Spock into him. A hell of a hug, he had thought.

Spock dropped the shield.

Jim rushed into his chest, felt the strong band of his arms wrap fiercely around his waist and shoulders. He couldn't help but shudder. He felt like he was freezing. His fingers ached, clutching Spock's shirt hard enough to strain the fabric. Spock's hands were firm on him, his mind only barely brushing against Jim's, only as much as the bond could offer. Jim shifted, brought his arms up to loop around Spock's neck. He pressed his forehead to Spock's, wanted closer.

"I need you in my head." Jim croaked hoarsely.

"Yes Jim." Spock murmured, shifting, pressing his temple to Jim's.

It was a shallow meld, entirely unlike any other time they had touched. It was still there, the thrum of their bond so deep they couldn't even reach it from where they were. It was an undercurrent of emotion, a deep vein flowing somewhere under, _through_ their connection. Their meld was just enough that they could share the faintest impression their thoughts. Just enough that Jim felt like he was in a feedback loop.

Spock's thoughts were orderly, a maze of walls, each thought built precisely. Jim's own flowed like water. They washed away at the structure that contained it. Even so, even as their minds were in different states, they were of the same matter.

Jim was, for a moment, contented.

Jim could feel the reluctance deep in the bond, even as Spock thought they should pull away. Jim thought in laughter, radiated amusement completely. Spock had a brief thought, an impression that this was Jim.

A moment later he eased the shield back between them. Jim could still feel the impression of thoughts ghosting in his mind. There was an impression of a thought, again, but it only frustrated Jim. He felt Spock shift against him, almost like he were nuzzling closer. Spock's thought's clarified, he focused.

"_It __**is**__ difficult t_o _co_**mmu**_nicat_e li_ke th__**i**__s._" The thought wasn't well focused, seemed to waver in and out and at times was so soft as to be more of an echo than a direct thought.

"**C**_**o**_o_l._"

Slowly, in a physical display of reluctance, Spock pulled back. The sensation of their minds brushing finally faded. Jim blinked slowly, opening his eyes and leaning back just enough to focus. Spock's eyes were wide, filled with a wonder he usually reserved for scientific exploration. Jim couldn't help but _like_ having that intensity and amazement directed at him. It was a good kind of attention, something that hinted maybe he was worth observing.

"Jim." Spock's voice held a hint of strain, just the slightest rougher sound.

"Spock." Jim was breathless, blue eyes dancing.

"Is this what you desired?" Spock had righted himself and was offering a single eyebrow quirk.

"Hmm." Jim shifted a little in the circle of his arms, cocked his head to the side and pouted playfully. "Well...I suppose it'll have to do."

"I see." Spock replied flatly, flexing his grip.

Jim beamed, but it faltered a second later. "This has got to be weird for you."

"It is...a singularly new experience." Spock eyed the crestfallen look in Jim's eyes a moment. "I believe it will require extensive observation and experimentation to determine the peculiar nature of it."

"Oh." Jim hummed softly. "You have your hand on my lower back again."

"Indeed? I do not know the significance of this."

"It's where you put your hand, when I was drunk." Jim strummed his fingers against the back of Spock's neck, considering something. "Did I ever thank you properly for that?"

"You apologized and 'made it up to me', but I do not recall any official expression of gratitude. It is unnecessary, Jim."

Jim snorted. "Of course it is. Completely illogical. That doesn't mean I don't want to say it anyway."

"Jim..." Spock almost looked like he wanted to smirk. "It is unnecessary, because you are here. I will admit the decision to save your life was in some small part entirely selfish."

Jim's breath hitched, and he hoped Spock didn't notice. "Just couldn't live without me?"

"I have no desire to give up my position as Science Officer to Captain the _Enterprise_." Spock replied curtly.

Jim stared at him a moment, before the joke sank in. He laughed heartily, allowing Spock to hold up his weight. There was that lack of balance and humor thing in play again, but Jim was willing to ignore it. When Jim finally regained control, he found his face was buried in the crook of Spock's neck, who was standing just a bit more stiffly. Jim figured he had worn out his welcome in the other man's arms and started to pull back. Spock held him just a moment longer before cleanly vacating his area. He was blushing faintly. Well that wouldn't do.

"So, about this throwing me on my bed..."

Spock's ears darkened and he shot Jim a surprised look. Jim laughed again, slapping his arm playfully. Spock only relaxed marginally, his eyes still strangely tense. "You are teasing me."

Jim shrugged a little. "Well, if you get to joke, so do I. Maybe I'll even get you to laugh one day."

"Unlikely."

"Not going to quote probabilities at me?"

"I do not believe you would find them favorable." Spock cocked his head ever so slightly to the side. "You seem to believe that not hearing the probability would somehow affect the likelihood of the event you desire."

"It works, doesn't it?" Jim drew himself up straight, just a little bit of captain bleeding through.

"...I have observed that you tend towards your desired outcome, regardless of statistical likelihood, more than is statistically considered normal."

Jim grinned. "So that's a yes. Now tell me Spock...wouldn't that give you even more reason to tell me the statistics?"

Spock's look seemed to level just a bit more challengingly on Jim. "I look forward to your future displays of wit."

Jim brought his hand up to cover his smile, trying for a contemplative look. He glanced over at the chronometer on his desk and swore.

"How did it get that late?"

"I apologize. I will depart." Spock turned on his heel, heading for the door.

"Spock!" Jim declared sharply, grabbing his arm.

They both blinked at each other for a very long moment. Jim coughed awkwardly, because he wasn't sure why he grabbed him like that. His hand didn't want to work, though, and he couldn't quite convince it to let go. Spock was giving him an very odd look, miniscule as it was. Jim reached up with his free hand and fixed Spock's hair, which had become mussed at some point during their interactions. After another second, Jim managed to let go of him just long enough to get his hand back. He locked it behind his back with the other one.

"Can't have you go out there looking any less than perfect." Jim smiled sheepishly. "Goodnight."

"Thank you." Spock considered him for a moment. "I believe the Terran phrase is 'sleep tight'."

With that he was out the door. Jim was momentarily dumfounded. Then he spent a few good minutes swearing at his own impulse control. His hand was completely betraying him. Dirty traitor was probably taking orders from his brain. If he didn't nip it in the bud, it would be a complete mutiny. What, exactly, was the objective of said mutiny he didn't know, but it was there all the same.

Jim flopped into the seat at his desk grumbling. He had a plan, before his hand locked up and he had to call Bones.

Now he pulled his messages up on his personal computer. Same ones as before. He decided he would postpone a little longer and opened his mother's message.

.. ..

_Hey baby boy,_

_I totally expect an answer to that question eventually. Still, I can't believe you've been in a relationship for over a month. Stop scowling. I know you're scowling. _(He was.) _You know I have a bit of a point. I'm glad for you. Don't go ruining it just to spite me. It seems like you have a good thing going for you right now and even though you don't want to hear me say it I'm rooting for you._

_You've really grown up. I'm hearing all over the news feeds about the good work you're doing. I'm willing to believe he's probably had a hand in this new found maturity. Maybe even a bit more than a hand, hm? I'm serious about that dexterity. I also heard a rumor he's a linguist for fun. Good tongues those linguists._

_You should call me some time. Soon, preferably. I want to actually talk to him. No threats or anything, I promise. I won't even embarrass you all that much. I just want to meet the boy that's so utterly wonderful as to get your attention. Even more impressive, he must be stubborn as all hell to keep you. Don't pretend you can't be completely bullheaded. You are a Kirk. I can only imagine how he keeps up with you. Actually, that's another thing I would love to hear about. How does he keep up? Or does he have to hold back because of that Vulcan strength? Are you always Captain or are you more of a cadet with him?_

_I've got to keep this short, so I'll just leave this here. ;D Talk to you soon._

_Winnie_

.. ..

Jim chuckled softly, though his face was burning a bit.

_Mom._

_No. Just...no. I do not want you to meet him yet. I think you'll scare him off. No jokes about me doing that already. He's a bit odd about parents. I don't know how it will go and I don't want to offend him or something. I will talk to him about it though, so you can't say I didn't even try._

_He is pretty stubborn. I guess there's something about people who are drawn to the Kirk family.__** Mom**__. I'm pretty sure I got all my stubbornness from you. Thank you very much._

_And really mom? You don't think maybe my sex life is kind of my own business? What kind of mom asks about her son's sexual escapades? Besides, we aren't sleeping together._

_Kirk out._

Yes, he was completely fine with ending it that way. No he didn't feel guilty about still lying to his mother about being in a relationship. No. Not in the slightest. Even if her new found assurances in his maturity were based off of a lie. She would be proud of him even if he weren't in a relationship. So it didn't matter at all. Not in the slightest.

Jim growled, punching up his brother's message. At least Sam would make him blindly angry, rather than guilty. He already scoffed at the header 'Jimmy'. How cute. It was a video message.

Sam's face popped up on his screen, looking marginally less scruffy than the time before. His eyes were tired, sorrowful. He gulped, cleared his throat and didn't smile. After a few seconds he shook his head and sighed. When he looked back up, his gray-green eyes were a little firmer, though no less hurt.

"I can't make things right between us Jim. No matter how hard I try." He sounded exhausted. "That doesn't mean I'm not going to. But I know I can't force you to forgive me. And you're right, I _am_ sending you video messages because they are a whole hell of a lot more sympathetic than writing. I figured I would need all of the sympathy points I could get from you. You might just sit through this, even if it makes you angry."

He sighed, looking away from the camera again. "I'm tired, Jim. I'm tired of running."

Sam turned back, a soft smile on his face. "I messed up pretty bad. No matter how I spin it, I was a terrible big brother. I'm just asking for a second chance. I did wrong by you. And I didn't contact you, when you became a captain, because I didn't think you would want to hear from me...but Jim...I don't care that you're mad. I can't just be an absentee brother anymore. I can't handle that."

Sam gulped, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. After a shaky breath, he continued. "I don't want to miss this, Jim. I've missed so much in your life. I don't know a thing about you. I'm more of a stranger than the girl on the video feed telling me about your latest escapades. I didn't get to be a part of your life and I regret that more than anything. That, not leaving, is what I regret. I regret not being there to hear about your first crush, not helping you pick out a tux for prom, not listening to you gush about your first kiss...I regret not being there for you. I'm not going to get that back, but I won't miss this."

His voice cracked, and he coughed. "I want to be here with you Jim. I want to hear all about it. I want to listen to you gush about the little look he saves just for you. I want to hear about when you first realized you liked him. Was is a gradual thing or did it just hit you one day? I want to know what he does that drives you nuts, and what he does that gets butterflies going in your stomach. I want to hear about the first time you realized he liked you back. And yeah, I want to hear about how he takes your breath away. And whether he's an amazing kisser or if it's awkward and adorable and you have to take it slow. I want to hear stories about the cute things he does and completely denies. I want to be here when you're frustrated and you need someone to talk to and I want to be there when you can't stop gushing and you're so red. I messed up Jim, and I cheated myself out of the chance to be your big brother. I know I have no right to ask you, but please..."

The tears in his eyes finally spilled over in a single splash of hot remorse. "Please let me back into your life. Please be my baby brother again."

Sam gulped, didn't try to dry his face. He simply looked down, shaking his head a little. He shut the recording off without looking back up. It was jarring when the screen went black.

Jim sat back in his chair, his hand covering his mouth. He wanted to be angry. Wanted to scream about how selfish it was for Sam to ask that of him. He wanted to stop feeling so guilty. On top of everything, he felt guilty, because Sam was _wrong_. There was nothing between him and Spock, there was no opportunity for him to try again. That stupid guilt was making it hard for him to feel quite as self-righteous as he wanted to. So much for the blind rage he had been hoping for.

Jim didn't want to respond immediately, because he knew he's probably break down and he wanted to be angry for a little while longer.

His eyes fell to the message that had ruined his day, more or less. Urgent it beamed at him. Starfleet was telling him it was important. He hesitated only a moment, considered the man he'd been the past year, isolating himself and missing a whole universe around him because he was afraid. With the resolve of a Captain, he deleted it.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**Soon there will be more action, more awkwardness, and more confrontation. Look out for Sulu trying to help, Scotty trying to get out of the way, Chekov being Chekov, and Uhura setting her devious plans in motion. All that and more, next time.**

**Oh. And the Binary.**

_**01110000 01100101 01110010 01101101 01101001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 0100000 01110100 01101111 0100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01100101 0100000 01100001 01100010 01101111 01100001 01110010 01100100 -Permission to come aboard**_


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own Star Trek.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

"Captain, my Captain." Sulu threw a mock salute in greeting as he set his tray on the table Jim was sitting at.

"Lieutenant-Ow! Bones!" Jim glared at the man who was not the slightest but subtle about elbowing him, before correcting himself. "Good morning Sulu."

"Morning McCoy, Mr. Spock." Sulu nodded to them both before fully taking his seat. "How are you guys doing this morning?"

"Fine." Jim shrugged.

"Good..." McCoy was watching him with a note of interest.

"My health is adequate. And your own?" Spock glanced up only momentarily.

"Good. Good." Sulu, shoved a mouthful of waffles down before tapping the table nervously and glancing around awkwardly. "So...uh...about...you know...that thing between you two..."

Jim groaned. "What about it?"

"Well, I was just wondering if you guys still wanted to try and convince the crew it was over, or if you were putting a stop to that for right now. I mean," Sulu gulped down another piece of waffle infested syrup. "It's been _weeks_ now and that seems like an awful long time."

Jim sighed. "It's complicated. We're working on it, really, but now there's paperwork involved and we need to get that sorted out before we can do anything else."

Sulu whistled, low. "Dang. Okay. Well, I can't help with that, but if you need anything else, let me know, yeah?"

"Your willingness to assist has been noted." Spock told him almost sharply. "At current, you need not concern yourself with the status of our relationship."

Sulu stared at him for a good minute before returning his attention to his waffles. Jim shifted awkwardly in his seat. Partially because Spock had just completely dismissed him. The rest of it, though, was because he wasn't sure what to talk about. Sulu had seen him drunk enough to need a rescue and had been more than willing to help out and Jim had mouthed off in front of him too. Theoretically, that meant he should feel free to just start over. Sulu would understand if he asked questions that a friend should know.

"So..." Jim struggled to ask something, and glanced at Bones for help.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "How's it going learning Russian?"

Sulu flushed. "Uh...It could be better."

"You're learning Russian?" Jim prompted.

Sulu shrugged. "I'm kind of keeping it under wraps until I get a little better at it."

Jim was grateful for the fact that he apparently wasn't supposed to know this information. Sulu started talking about how he never really had time for the computer lessons and they seemed unnecessarily complicated to him. Spock reminded him that Uhura spoke Russian and would most likely be willing to assist him.

"If you need help with the computer program, I can get it running a bit more smoothly." Jim admitted.

Sulu glanced at him in surprise, before grinning. "I might just take you up on that. I think I'd have to relocate some of the flowers in my room before it would be safe for you though."

"I'm not allergic to _that_ many things." Jim hissed, glaring at McCoy. "This is just ridiculous. Seriously."

"Actually," Sulu corrected him, "I was referring to how many carnivorous or poisonous plants I've got. I doubt Spock would want you anywhere near them. Hell, he chewed me out last time Chekov was in my room because a Rigelian fly trap sent him down to the sickbay for half an hour with a dermal regenerator."

"Ouch." Jim winced in sympathy. "Just what was Chekov doing in your room?"

Sulu turned his attention to his waffles. "It's no wonder he thought all the science personnel was afraid of him, I mean, Spock, you can be pretty scary. I think that's what so many of the science girls think is hot."

Spock raised an eyebrow at the obvious diversion. Jim narrowed his eyes, leaning across the table and taking in Sulu's slightly pinched expression and the faint dusting of red on his cheeks. McCoy rolled his eyes, glancing at Spock behind Jim's back.

"Just what nefarious things have you been up to with my navigator, Sulu?"Jim hummed, face full of suspicion.

Sulu squeaked out a cough. "Hey! I haven't done anything!"

"Yet." McCoy added cheekily.

"Jerk!" Sulu snapped. "Stay out of this."

"Lieutenant." Jim grinned. "Are you crushing on my navigator?"

"It isn't like that." Sulu blushed down at his food. "He's like, my best friend. And I hear _all_ about his relationship troubles. I just...I'm learning Russian because that's what friends do, right? Learn to communicate in a new way, even though they don't have to...That's all. Honest. We just hang out and talk. I'm pretty sure he thinks of me as his big brother or something, anyway."

Jim grimace. "Sorry."

"Don't." Sulu waved him off. "It's fine."

With a sigh, Jim finished off his food and left for the bridge. He had kind of hoped Sulu would be comfortable enough to talk to him about it, but they weren't really friends. Not yet. And he got it. Talking unrequited feelings and stupid awkward crushes that snuck up on you when you weren't looking probably wasn't Jim's forte. Or something any guy really wanted to deal with. Sulu said it was nothing, so Jim was going to leave it at that.

He kicked back a moment in his seat, thinking to himself while he waited for his crew to finish their prep. His crew got along pretty well. They seemed to all have a surprisingly complex set of relationships built off of not only work, but friendship. Jim hadn't thought about it before, but now he was laying out the information that had been given to him.

McCoy was McCoy. He never changed his behavior for anyone, something Jim was grateful for. He knew for a fact that the medical crew loved him. He'd always seen that and had been jealous, a few times, of that fact. They came to him with _everything_. Chapel would snark back and all of them seemed to be picking up on Bones' attitude. He'd never once not been sassed, even when it wasn't Bones doing his check up or putting him back together. He'd thought it was just a medical crew thing, but it was more than that. McCoy was their boss and their friend, loved and respected in equal parts.

Giotto had only been a brief example, but Jim realized the little he'd seen was more than enough. Giotto's crew was willing to talk freely around him and he wasn't afraid to talk freely around them either.

Everywhere he looked around his ship, his crew trusted their commanding officers. He squashed that initial inclination to exclude himself. His bridge crew had proven that they liked him and wouldn't censor themselves. Most of the crew, to Jim's eternal chagrin, didn't seem inclined to censor themselves at all. Just because the first personal thing they had really came to him about was his relationship didn't necessarily mean they didn't think they _could_ approach him. It was possible Jim was just so secretive about it that no one was going to pry. It was also possible, just possible mind you, that they wouldn't have minded if he pried. Sulu hadn't.

He wasn't friends with his crew yet...but maybe he could slowly start working on that?

Jim hummed, tapping his foot in the air a bit as he looked around. His crew was finishing their start up routine. Jim stood, and was only mildly surprised to find very few people glanced in his direction. He was free to move around however he wanted until he was ready to talk. That made him feel pretty good.

"Alright everyone." Jim called for their attention, ignoring the little part insisting that wasn't quite formal enough. "We've got orders to hang in orbit on a near by planet for a few days for observation. If we're good, we may just get to head down planet side and take some samples too."

"Alright!" Sulu cheered.

Jim rolled his eyes, and glanced over at Spock. "I'm trusting you all to be on your best behavior."

"Should I be making ship vide announcement?" Chekov giggled.

Jim grinned. "Sound's like a plan. Let everyone know they'll have something more interesting to do soon. When you're done, set the heading to the planet marked on your starmap. It should take us about two days to get there and then the watching starts."

"Yes sir."

Jim took a deep breath, half listening as Chekov did as he said. His crew gave him acknowledging smiles and nods as he walked past their stations. Uhura smirked at him when he sauntered past. Jim found himself leaning over Spock's station though, grinning like a fool.

"Looking forward to an observation mission?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "It is the primary function of this vessel."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but is this fun, or would you rather be doing meet-and-greets? First contacts and negotiation work?"

"Ah." Spock glanced down at his station before returning his gaze to Jim. "It is illogical to base your actions around a concept such as fun, Captain. However, I find my skills are best suited to scientific endeavors."

Another grin, followed by a suspicious smirk. "If I didn't know any better, I would swear you just implied you have no diplomatic skills at all. When you aren't scaring everyone, I have very good evidence that you are more than suited to diplomacy. Actually, I have on good authority that you're pretty _diplomatic_ even when you are scaring people."

Spock raised an eyebrow, turning fully from his station. "I do not know what you are referring to."

"Mm-hm." Jim patted his shoulder, standing back up straight. "Carry on."

Spock watched him walk back to the command chair. Jim settled into his chair, feeling pretty good. He could get used to that whole having fun with his crew thing. He'd figure it out. He'd start with the people he knew and trusted. Or was learning to trust. If people saw him joking around and speaking freely with his command crew, maybe they'd approach him more. It was a sound theory, in his head, and Jim knew he had to start somewhere.

… .. . .. …

"I'm not sure I want to know what is happening here." McCoy announced.

Jim glanced over to see Bones standing just inside the door to his room. The door had slid shut behind him, and he was half-leaning on the frame, staring at the room. The room that was so utterly messy that Jim wasn't even pretending to walk through it without stepping on things. Jim, who was half-naked and rooting through his dresser again.

"Hey Bones." Jim greeted tugging at something. "Why the heck does Rand insist on putting my jeans at the bottom of the drawer?"

"A mystery." Bones drawled. "Why am I here Jim?"

"Uh..." Jim braced a foot against his dresser. "Well. I could use your help figuring out how to properly wear cologne."

McCoy opened his mouth to protest his involvement, but paused. With one quick yank, Jim had freed his jeans, as well as most of the other clothing in his dresser. He disappeared behind a cloud of clothing for a split second before clambering back over towards his bed. McCoy noticed the collared shirt laying out there and furrowed his brow.

"Why are you wearing cologne?" McCoy finally asked. "You hate cologne."

"Well, yeah." Jim mumbled from where he was struggling with his shirt. "But that's no reason not to smell nice. You said my cologne was nice when I wasn't drowning in it."

"Uh-hu." McCoy took another look at the surrounding mess. "Why do you care how you smell? What are we getting ready for?"

"I'm not getting ready for anything." Jim shrugged, trying to smooth out the shirt, before realizing he had the buttons all wrong. "Am I not allowed to feel special when I have time off?"

"Okay." McCoy relented immediately, raising his hands in defeat.

He was still highly suspicious as he headed to the bathroom to retrieve the cologne. He could hear Jim changing into his jeans in the other room, _whistling_ to himself. Right. Not getting ready for anything. And he was dancing a two-step with a Klingon.

McCoy stepped back into the bedroom and had to smile. Jim looked so earnest and confused. McCoy glanced at the bottle in his hand, and not for the first time felt a warmth around his heart. They may have been close to the same age, but somehow brother didn't quite fit. He wouldn't go so far as to say he felt _parental_ towards him, but it was a near thing. He was frustrating, and obnoxious and such a stupid boy and McCoy loved him anyway. He wasn't afraid to be proud of him.

"Come here Jim. It's about time someone taught you how to wear cologne." McCoy smiled affectionately.

Jim grinned. "You're the best."

"I know." McCoy agreed. "Quick piece of advice, if you don't want to be drowning other people in this, don't apply any more until after a shower. I don't care if you can't smell it anymore, it's still there."

He proceeded to show Jim how to apply a very small amount. When Jim complained that it was hard to notice, McCoy told him that was the point. Wearing it light meant people had to get closer to smell it properly, rather than distancing themselves so they weren't choking. Jim laughed.

"Thanks." Jim clapped a hand on his shoulder, goofy smile dimming into something more noteworthy. "I can always count on you."

McCoy shook his head. "Just don't make me do any more of this father thing any time soon."

Jim laughed, winking. "Shouldn't you be scolding my boyfriend while you clean a phaser or something Daddy?"

McCoy smirked, jumping on the opening. "Am I going to have to have a long talk with him about what is going to happen if he hurts my little boy? Or are we to the point where I should be stressing how anything he touches you with that doesn't have protection on it is getting removed surgically?"

Jim flushed at the same time as a somewhat sick sensation washed over him. "Other points aside, please don't threaten to cut anything off of anyone."

McCoy shrugged. "Don't tell me any details then. And realize I actually have experience as a father and _will_ use that against you."

Jim ducked his head, but he was smiling. "I...Thanks..._Really_."

McCoy sighed, setting his hand on his shoulder. "You're welcome. Now stop standing around here like an idiot and go. If you keep that green-blooded computer of yours waiting much longer he may just come get you. And I'm sure you don't want him to see your room looking anything like this."

Jim flushed, glancing around. "It is a bit of a mess. I'll go-Wait. How did you know I was going to see Spock?"

McCoy had to cover his mouth with his hand when he couldn't properly fight down his smile. "Consider it a hunch. I'll see you tomorrow Jim."

Jim frowned. "Good night Bones."

After another check in the bathroom mirror, a little more consideration of McCoy's words, and forcing himself not to put more cologne on, Jim stepped out into the hall. He wasn't near as nervous as last time, at least partially because they had actually planned this meeting. Spock was quick to open the door when he chimed for entrance. Jim smiled winningly, but the exceptionally dark look in Spock's eyes had him faltering.

Spock proceeded to stare as Jim cleared the doorway and it shut behind him. It was definitely the shirt. Jim didn't give in and glance down. He had already checked and double checked and his shirt was pressed and buttoned properly and fitting snugly in all the right places. It was the same dark blue button down he had picked out of his closet because he liked how it made his eyes practically glow. Jim had thought it was a similar blue to the science uniform and had joked with Bones before about how he'd look damn good in a science uniform. Whatever scrutiny Spock was casting on his shirt, Jim was not clued in on it.

"Spock." Jim smiled awkwardly in greeting.

Spock's eyes snapped to his own, and he narrowed them slightly. "Jim. You are 1.35 minutes late."

Jim chuckled. "Sorry. I was talking with Bones."

"It seems it would be prudent to end your discussions with Doctor McCoy a minute sooner, Jim." Spock's eyebrows had flinched in a moment of some emotion.

Jim didn't know if he was joking or not, but he laughed anyway. "Yeah. Sometimes I get that feeling too."

Dare he think it, Spock almost looked pleased for a split second before gesturing towards his couch. "You may have a seat."

Jim moved to do just that, sliding past Spock. He missed the little head cock and curious look on Spock's face, but things still happened even if he wasn't observing them. He could still feel Spock's eyes on him, though. That was hardly abnormal. After all, he was in Spock's room, demanding his attention. It would be just rude if Spock were ignoring him. Jim plopped down, sprawling into his seat and looked up at Spock from under his lashes. Yeah. Definitely had his full attention.

"So." Jim grinned lazily.

Spock quirked an eyebrow as he moved to sit next to him. "Yes?"

Jim knocked their knees together, leaving the lower half of his leg pressed to Spock's when he didn't pull away. "I guess we should get started on this whole playing around in each others heads thing."

"It would be prudent not to delay." Spock agreed, but made no move to do anything.

"So..." Jim hummed, tapping his foot on the floor and feeling his leg slide against Spock's. "Normal mind meld, meld through the bond, or should we try just having it open?"

Spock seemed to hesitated there, which was strange because he went from not doing anything to not doing anything, but in an entirely different way. "You expressed previously a hesitation at the mental contact required for a meld. I believe it would be most beneficial to continue acclimating ourselves to the existence of the bond without further mental contact."

Jim nodded, but he couldn't quite keep the pout off his face. "Okay. That sounds reasonable. Yeah."

He glanced up at Spock to see his eyes lingering on his lips. Jim couldn't fight the smile then. Yes, pouting was highly illogical. Especially when he didn't want his first officer in his head. Jim was an illogical guy.

"Do you wish to be in contact before I remove the shielding?" Spock asked primly.

That shouldn't sound near as dirty as it did. Jim flushed. "Think of what Bones would say if he realized we were _removing_ layers of protection."

"I do not wish to discuss Doctor McCoy at this juncture."

Jim noticed the slight discomfort in his tone and smirked. "Oh? I see. You can't give me brain herpes or something can you?" Spock raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I know that healer guy said our minds were perfect for each other or something, but I don't want a mentally transmitted disease or something. And you aren't going to get me brain pregnant or anything, are you?"

Spock looked completely helpless and lost, so Jim laughed, slapping his arm. "Teasing. Spock. I'm teasing."

"Indeed." Spock straightened himself. "While it is possible to achieve sexual climax through mental contact, it is perfectly safe. Further, one would have to enter another being's mind with the intent to do so."

Jim flushed, sitting up straight, eyes wide. "Are you serious? Oh wow. That's...wow. I don't even..."

Spock almost looked smug and Jim flushed darker. Okay. So Spock had won that round. That didn't mean Jim couldn't gracefully one up him. Which he proceeded to do as he lowered his eyelashes and ghosted his fingers over Spock's, shifting to invade his space. Spock's face went green and Jim smirked, sliding one hand up Spock's forearm and using it to brace himself as he held himself inches from Spock's mouth.

"I think this should be about enough contact." Jim purred. "If it isn't...well, I'm certainly in the right position to remedy that."

Spock gulped, staring up at Jim like he was the personification of illogical things everywhere. His voice was tight as he attempted to contradict that thought. "A logical proposal."

It wasn't a very good joke, Jim decided a moment later when Spock lowered the shielding between them and Jim found himself pressing his lips to Spock's. It had been instinct, he told himself, but it was incredibly awkward. Jim valiantly didn't think the word kiss, because CPR was more romantic than what he was doing. Jim's mind decided now would be a good time for a mutiny attempt, because when he tried to pull back, he found instead that he was pressing closer. Spock hadn't moved either way, obviously having expected this a bit more than Jim did.

Spock wasn't putting the shield back up, so Jim was going to have to figure this out on his own.

The only thing he was really getting through the bond was a sense of amusement and exasperation. Jim certainly hoped he was getting his annoyance back, and not so much the embarrassment.

He took a deep breath through his nose, considering what to do next. Clearly he was going to need to shift contact points, if he wanted to at least stop smashing his mouth into his first officers. One small point of his brain pointed out that his tongue was an entirely different point of contact, but it was ignored, because Jim didn't really like that thought. Somewhat aggressively, Jim yanked on Spock's arm. While it did shift their positions slightly, making for a slightly more interesting mouth to mouth scenario, it accomplished a much more important goal. Specifically, Jim laid Spock's hand against his lower back.

Spock hesitated for a moment before splaying his fingers across bare skin. Jim broke their lips apart with a gasping little sigh. His mouth was practically numb and he felt like his lips were going to bruise. He couldn't even imagine how it would feel after if they had actually kissed.

"Sorry." Jim murmured, lips brushing Spock's ever so slightly as he spoke.

"I had believed you were prepared for the shield to be lowered." Spock declared as though he thought it was his fault.

Jim hummed, pulling back a little farther. "I guess I had it coming. It was my own damn fault."

"Affirmative." Spock quirked an eyebrow and shifted his hand slightly.

Jim smirked. "Was that payback for all these Vulcan kisses I've been stealing?"

Joking always made things better. Always.

"For you to steal them, they would have to have not been given freely."

Not always.

Jim flushed. "Just because you aren't actually protesting it because of the whole bond thing and feeling guilty about jumbling up my head a little doesn't mean anything. Besides, it's a human saying referring to kissing someone unexpectedly."

Jim pouted folding his arms over his chest. A second later he realized that his only point of contact with Spock was the firm hand on his lower back, grounding him. Spock was gazing up at him, still too amused. Finally, he quirked an eyebrow. Jim flushed, but refused to budge. He wasn't gong to lose this...whatever it was they were having at the moment. The bond sang in the back of his head, trying to make him giggle with the sudden strange and infectious amusement Spock was feeling. Jim was not going to smile.

"It isn't funny." Jim protested.

Spock slipped his hand a little higher up Jim's back and earned a hiccup for the action. "Indeed."

Jim scowled. "You aren't going to win."

"Win?"

"This." Jim gestured between them. "I've got years more experience teasing over you. I'll win."

Spock damn near smirked. "I was unaware we were competing."

"The hell you were." Jim growled. "I'm a natural flirt. I can be seductive in my _sleep_. I will win."

Spock's eyes raked over him before he settled on his face, giving him a deceptively neutral look. "Most fascinating. How do you intend to demonstrate this _Jim?_"

Jim felt like his organs just started playing hopscotch, because they were flipping around all over the place. If the first time he'd had a discussion about using his first name with Spock had zero inflection, this time it had all of it. How something could have all of the inflection he didn't know, but if there was something that hadn't just been communicated through that word, he had missed it. He directly attributed this to Spock being far better about this teasing thing than he had previously let on. Apparently he was getting a lot of practice with Bones. That annoyed him a bit more than was strictly fair.

Jim leaned down, ignoring the way Spock's hand inadvertently slipped down to his ass with the action. "You don't want to test my boundaries, Spock. When I get in a teasing war, I always get my way. This will end with you begging me to stop."

Spock's eyes flashed with that darkness. "I do not beg, Jim."

Jim's breath hitched a little and he decided his heart was speeding up at the challenge. He stood up straight, eyes locked on Spock's. He was still ignoring the hand that Spock hadn't seen fit to relocate. With a huff, Jim turned, darting out of his grasp. A second later he remembered the bond, which up until that point hadn't seen fit to complain about their contact ratio. It made its protest known immediately and Spock was out of his seat before Jim's knees could give out, wrapping his arms around his torso.

Jim gasped, shaking fingers gripping Spock's forearms. "That wasn't one of my better decisions."

Jim could feel Spock hesitate at his back a moment, before he leaned down and pressed his nose to the skin right behind Jim's ear. It sent a very warm sensation through Jim's entire body. He shuddered a little as Spock inhaled deeply.

"You have changed your scent." Spock declared softly.

Oh. The cologne. "It's just cologne." Jim protested.

Spock shifted, so he was almost pressing his lips to the nape of Jim's neck. "It is a most peculiar scent. Is it Terran in origin?"

"Uh." Jim tried to block out the little sparks shooting through his skin and concentrate. "Yeah."

"It mixes well with your natural scent." Spock observed. "Objectively speaking."

Jim chuckled. "Objectively. Right. It's a pain to get just the right amount. So I don't wear it often."

Spock didn't respond, simply took another deep breath. Jim felt himself warm a bit with embarrassment, but he couldn't quite fight down the fact that he was pleased. No one wanted to be told they smelled awful, he reasoned. He actually felt a bit sleepy, with Spock wrapped around him like that and Jim brushed it off. Logically, it was a good thing he wasn't having his usual reaction to being in someone's arms. That would be weird. So in the long run dozy was strange, but not alarming.

"I don't think I'd mind smelling like your incense though." Jim murmured, feeling weirdly content and he figured that was just the bond relaxing after its little panic attack.

Spock's grip on him tightened and he straightened, pulling back from where he had been 'inspecting' Jim's new scent. "I see."

Jim frowned, wondering just what he'd done wrong. Spock all but vacated his space, keeping a hand lightly on Jim's wrist. Just two fingers pressed to the sensitive flesh. The bond wobbled a bit, but Jim ignored the concern. Spock wasn't going to just stop touching him. He was still right there. Spock would be there.

It felt like something clicked, just then, but Jim couldn't quite grasp it.

Gently, he pulled his hand back, dragging the entire way until his fingers slid past Spock's and he was left without a contact point. Well, almost. The bond was still there. Jim ignored the little bubble of panic that was starting to set in at not touching Spock, plunged into his own head and touched the bond briefly, reassuringly. Spock went very still next to him. They were still both there.

Oh. Jim hadn't realized before, but the bond was just another living part of him. Just like his gut, or his heart, or his brain, and sometimes his hands and other pieces of anatomy, it had needs, it had desires. And just like his gut, there was instinct involved in it. He'd acted on bonds before, when he thought about it. His bonds had just never had the ability to make him sick the same way his gut did. If that was all it was, then Jim could handle it. Beyond just the skill to ignore certain instincts, Jim could understand where it was coming from. The reason they had such violent reactions when the shield dropped was because the bond wanted to protect itself and felt like it was starving when there was no contact between them.

And like how he needed excitement, and challenge, and to learn, he needed just a little more contact with Spock now.

"Could you always feel this?" Jim croaked. "How _starved_ the bond is?"

Spock looked genuinely awestruck. "Yes."

Jim frowned. "We...we're hurting it."

"The bond will not be so profoundly affected-"

"No!" Jim felt more alarmed than was probably necessary. "I...I know I can't keep it open constantly. I'm not there yet, but I will be. We just need to practice keeping it open longer and longer."

Spock nodded, eyes still wide with muted wonder. "I understand."

"Good." Jim swallowed hard. "Now I think I'm going to faint."

Spock immediately caught him as his knees buckled and replaced the shield. Jim felt exhausted. Spock was mindful enough to place Jim on his bed, rather than the couch. Jim tried to ignore the way he could instantly smell Spock all over the sheets. He'd sort of half figured Spock's sheets would smell like detergent, in that totally never thought about it before way. Spock sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at Jim in a way he just couldn't scrutinize. Jim figured maybe having the bond open was helping him figure out what Spock was thinking a lot more than he had thought.

"I will call Doctor McCoy."

"No." Jim shook his head. "I'm okay. Just...really tired all of a sudden. I'm guessing actually trying to touch the bond with my practically psi-null brain is a bit more exercise than I'm used to."

Spock watched him for a moment before nodding. "This is likely. You must not induce undue mental strain, Jim."

Jim nodded, before dropping it for a more interesting thought. "Hey...uh...My mom contacted me a little while ago and, well, she hasn't gotten back in contact with me yet, but she wanted me to ask if you'd be willing to talk to her. I know it's weird, and it's bad enough we're lying to your family about our relationship and now my mom is being all 'I want to meet your boyfriend Jimmy' and it's weird and I'm sorry."

Spock raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to stop rambling. "I would not be adverse to speaking with your mother."

Jim smirked, then yawned. "Okay. Great. Now she can't complain."

"Rest for a moment, Jim." Spock instructed. "You are still weak from your attempts to asses our bond."

"Mm." Jim nodded, finding it suddenly very hard to keep his eyes open.

"I will be here when you wake, Jim."

Jim smirked. "Careful. I might seduce you in my sleep."

Spock froze in the middle of standing, his eyes darting over to look at Jim. He had curled up though, and closed his eyes, so Spock disregarded Jim's teasing. He straightened up fully and watched Jim for a moment before turning from the bed. There was no need for him to be anything less than productive at the moment.

… .. . .. …

Jim woke feeling somewhere between super fantastic and absolutely awful. It was the somewhere under the normal curve, though, because he managed to all at once feel even better than that and even worse. His head was killing him. Like, someone forced him to drink Romulan ale then hit him in the head with a hammer five times, killing him. Somewhat contradictory in nature, was the overall sense of well being. Jim sighed, glanced at his bedside table, and froze. He had a clock on his bedside table and unless someone was playing a sick joke, that was not his bedside table.

Well damn.

The pain eased a bit and Jim started to recognize his surroundings. He had fallen asleep in Spock's room. That...could have been significantly worse than it was. He sat up to look around himself and was distinctly aware of the fact that Spock wasn't in the bedroom area. Okay. How long was Jim out for?

He stood carefully, being as quiet as he could. The headache was subsiding much more quickly now, and would probably be gone well before his shift. Assuming he could figure out when his shift was. Jim took a quick assessment of himself. Aside from the pain and the strangely feeling good, he was perfectly normal. His clothes looked absolutely awful, but that was what happened when you slept in nice shirts.

Deciding that could be worse and he'd worry about his clothes when he got back to his room, Jim crept for the door.

He came to a complete stop when he spotted Spock. He was asleep. He was laying on the couch, asleep. He was laying on his side, knees curled slightly so he fit on the couch, his arm pillowed under his head, and his hair mussed, asleep. Jim felt his heart stutter to a stop. It was both the most human and the most alien Spock had ever seemed to him.

Jim wanted to wake him up. Wanted to kneel down and tangle his fingers in his hair and absolutely beam at him when he opened his eyes. Wanted to catch him looking sleepy for even a split second and wanted to see the confusion when he woke up to Jim and couldn't quite control his facial expressions or even begin to fathom why his illogical captain was smiling at him like that.

Jim crept out of the room without waking him. Hopefully Spock wouldn't be upset by that.

Jim froze when he caught sight of Scotty. Scotty, who was staring at him almost slack-jawed. Jim knew exactly how it looked. He had just walked out of Spock's room at god knows how early in the morning (considerably early if Scotty was wandering around that deck) in clothes that looked like they had spent the night on the floor. Jim flushed.

"Ah. Scotty. I-"

"It's nothing Jim." Scotty insisted quickly. "Ah know it isn't any o' my business."

"It isn't like that." Jim insisted quickly, feeling like he desperately needed to clarify. "We-"

"Nay, Cap'n. Don't worry about it." Scotty insisted, shifting awkwardly. "Ah should be leaving. Ah'll hear from ye later Cap'n."

"Ah...But..." Jim frowned after him as he all but raced down the hall.

Fantastic. Now Scotty was getting weird impressions of him. Jim slunked into his room. It was still a mess. He was grateful of that, because if Rand had gone in his room and was aware of the fact that Jim hadn't slept in his room, the entire ship would know. At least he knew Scotty would probably only tell Keenser. With that in mind, Jim made a mess of his sheets quickly. There. At least it looked half slept in.

He checked his clock and found he had about three hours until his shift. Not too bad, considering he usually only left himself an hour and a half. He was going to blame falling asleep before he was used to for waking up early. His head was feeling considerably better. He figured he'd take a long shower, get some food, maybe try to set things right with Scotty, but that was a stretch. He might let that sit for a while so it isn't quite so awkward.

The sonic shower was warm and pleasant. By the time he was done, only the pervasive sense of feeling good was left.

Cleaned, happy, and feeling like a million credits, Jim sat down at his computer to check his messages before he left to get something to eat. Most of the usual stuff. Sam had responded again. Jim had finally sent him a message saying they could talk, but that was it. Apparently Sam had jumped on that. Also, a message from his mother. With no header. That was odd.

Jim was still glowing, so he'd probably check Sam's before he ate, but definitely his mom's first. He was shocked to find it was just one word. A rather emphatic 'WHAT'. Huh. He sort-of recalled the message he had sent, but he wasn't actually sure what she was asking about. He'd re-read his sent message later.

Time to brave Sam's message. It wasn't a video this time. Jim was going to take that as a good sign that Sam wasn't going to be beating him over the head with this whole brotherly bonding thing.

.. ..

_Hey bro,_

_First, thanks for letting me back in. I would dwell on this a little longer, but I guess I'm supposed to talk to you?_

_Mom called me the other day practically epileptic. I'm not sure what you did, but she's freaking out. I am sure you did it because your name came up twenty times in a ten-minute babble fest._

_I know it's probably not my business, but could you try not to freak her out so bad?_

_Sorry. And thanks, a lot. Love you Jimmy._

_Sam_

.. ..

Hu. Well that probably explained why his mom could only muster up a single coherent word. Jim also had no idea that Sam and his mom were in contact. Who reached out first, he had no idea, let alone how long it had been going on for. His mom hadn't ever brought it up. That was probably a tactful decision on her part. Jim sent off a quick reply, telling him he'd look into it. The only thing he sent to his mom was that she needed to clarify her message and that Spock had agreed to talk to her, so be less weird.

Content that that was all handled, Jim left for breakfast.

That was when his day got weird. Not because people were glancing over at him, because that was perfectly normal. What was odd was the way Uhura was in the canteen whispering to crew members and immediately stood up straight and vacated the room when he entered. He had thought Uhura liked him, but she practically ran from the room. Hu. Something was up there. Jim would approach her later, when he could corner her reasonably, and find out if everything was alright.

It wasn't long before McCoy made his way up to get food and spotted Jim. "Morning. You're up early."

"Got to bed early." Jim smiled.

McCoy froze, staring at him like he had sprouted foot long pink antennas. "Good lord."

"What?" Jim frowned.

"You...uh...how was your night?" McCoy sat down, having forgone his meal, looking shocked.

Jim fixed him with a thoroughly confused look. "Fine. Bones. Why are you staring at me like that? It isn't a crime to go to bed early."

McCoy shook his head a little, eyes never leaving Jim's face. "So...nothing unusual happened?"

Now Jim was starting to feel a little panic. "No. Bones. What's wrong?"

Bones continued to gawk at him. It was making him very uncomfortable. He started looking anywhere but McCoy in the hopes of finding a distraction. It was provided to him by his first officer walking in the room. McCoy must have seen something on his face because he whirled around to gawk at Spock. A second later he was on his feet and following him towards a replicator. Jim scowled after him.

Across the room, he watched as Spock turned to address McCoy. McCoy's stance went from aggressive to shocked. Finally he seemed to relax. Spock cocked his head to the side and settled into something of a relaxed stance himself. Jim didn't feel near as relaxed as they did.

By the time they had gotten their food, Jim was feeling his stomach twist. He wasn't really feeling all that hungry at that point. Spock and McCoy made their way back to the table.

"Content now?" Jim huffed, glancing between them.

McCoy shook his head. "Don't worry about it Jim."

"Good morning Captain."

Jim looked over to Spock and smiled shyly. "Morning Spock."

McCoy sighed, sinking into his seat with a shake of his head. Jim and Spock both turned to look at him, but he just started eating. It was fairly obvious he wasn't gong to share what was on his mind, so Jim returned to pushing food around his plate. Spock watched him for a moment before turning to his meal.

It was hard to ignore the fact that it was incredibly awkward sitting there. The night before not withstanding, Jim couldn't get the image of Spock asleep on his couch out of his head. It was incredibly distracting. For all they had managed to go through up to this point, he hadn't really stopped seeing Spock as his first officer. Now...now this was entirely different. When did Spock become a _person_?

Jim didn't feel guilty about that, because he was sure Spock was actually cultivating the robot persona he put forward.

Blew that when he told everyone he was dating Jim and spent the next week blushing, didn't he?

"Eat Jim." McCoy ordered finally.

Jim ducked his head a little, grinning, but forced food into his mouth. He still wasn't quite hungry, but he knew he needed to eat. Sitting around on shift on an empty stomach wasn't going to help him concentrate at all. By the time he needed to head for the bridge, he'd actually managed to nearly finish his food. In the process of cleaning up their trays, the back of Jim's hand brushed Spock's. His heart started racing and that stupid, giddy sense of well being returned.

McCoy swore, breaking the moment. Jim snapped his head to him, and McCoy was wiping up his coffee. "You okay Bones?"

"Fine." He ground out. "I'm fine. Just...go. Leave already."

Confused, Jim did as he asked. Spock followed him into the turbolift, keeping very quiet.

"So...uh...thanks." Jim murmured. "Are you...um...that is, did you sleep well?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "My sleep was adequate, Captain."

Jim glanced away awkwardly. "Oh. That's good. You could have woken me up...you know."

"I had not deemed it important...Jim." The little hesitation was no doubt caused by using Jim's name when they were almost effectively on shift.

Jim rolled his eyes. Yeah. Everything was back to normal. Well, as normal as the command team for the Enterprise could be. Jim took a step off of the turbolift, straight into streamers. He stumbled back in shock straight into Spock's chest. He was momentarily too alarmed to notice that one hand was on his bicep and the other braced against his lower back. Extremely lower.

Chekov was beaming at them. "Congratulations!"

Jim blinked, shifting slightly. It would be great if Spock would move his hand.

"Hi. Ensign...Chekov." Jim noted the amused looks on almost everyone's faces. "What...are you doing?"

"Today iz third month anniwersary!" Chekov announced excitedly. "Is good for celebrating!"

Jim opened his mouth the chew him out. Chekov knew damn well they hadn't been dating that long, let alone actually dating. He paused, because most of the bridge crew was not aware of that. Devious little brat. Jim shot a look at Sulu, telling him he needed to have a conversation with his 'best buddy' about this weird obsession over their relationship.

"Thank you Ensign." Spock drew Jim's attention back to the matter at hand. "However, it is illogical. Further more, your well wishes are unnecessary."

"But-"

"Chekov, it's three months." Jim cried in exasperation. "It isn't like it's a year or something. Do you have so little faith in me that you don't think I can handle a relationship for three months?"

Jim froze, instantly feeling bad. Chekov looked like he was about to cry. The rest of the crew was staring guiltily, like they had probably encouraged his behavior because they agreed it was awesome. Sulu looked a little pissed. Uhura just looked tired. Spock shifted how he was standing, moving so he had one hand between Jim's shoulder and the other at his side.

"Jim." Spock murmured reproachfully.

Jim sighed, pulling himself straight. Okay Captain, you just made your negotiations significantly more difficult. Time to fix things. Jim set his hand on Chekov's shoulder, smiling tightly and squeezing gently.

"Sorry. Thank you. Honestly." Jim noted the way his eyes light up and gave a little looser of a smile. "It's just...I don't really do _public_ anniversaries, you know? Too embarrassing. Besides, everyone always asks to see hugs or kisses and that's not happening."

Jim jerked his head towards Spock, who raised an eyebrow right on cue. Definitely no PDA's happening there. Well, excluding the accidental ones. Jim was willing to discount those though. Chekov laughed, and everyone on the bridge seemed to relax. Uhura was giving him a scrutinizing and amused look. Jim clapped him one more time on the arm and Chekov trotted off happily. Spock pressed gently on Jim's back, kneading his finger tips into the coiled muscles. Jim hadn't realized just how much he had tensed until he relaxed.

He gave Spock a grateful little look and stepped fully onto the bridge. Spock reported to his station without a second thought.

… .. . .. …

Jim was considering marooning Chekov. Just a little. For, like, an hour. He'd pick him right back up. Honestly. He just wanted him to stop reminding the entire crew it was 'three months'. He was so excited, you'd think he genuinely forgot they weren't actually together. And the rest of the crew was taking the opportunity to celebrate. Jim kept finding letters of congratulation tucked into things being handed to him.

He was a little stunned they were going through the effort to actually replicate little pieces of paper.

A few crew members also had made various projections and screens read out well wishes. He didn't feel like he was getting anything accomplished. At least when announced it, they were still on break. He couldn't imagine them getting any work done for a week when they actually made it to one year.

Jim dropped his PADD, eyes going wide with horror. What was his brain _doing_? They weren't going to be together a year. They would have taken care of it before that. There was no way they would keep lying for that long. There's no way they would. It was only going to be a little longer, then they'd have it figured out and they'd stop. They just needed a little longer to figure out how to handle it. One year was ridiculous. They wouldn't even make it to six months.

"Captain." Spock had moved from his station, most likely because Jim didn't respond when he asked about the PADD.

Jim shook his head, trying to right himself and get rid of the odd thought. "I'm alright."

"You shift will end in 2.734 minutes, Captain." Spock informed him. "Perhaps rest will be in order?"

Jim sighed, kneeling down to pick up his PADD. "I'm _fine_ Spock."

"Fine has variable meanings, Captain."

"Yes Spock. One of which means my health is adequate." Jim looked up sharply.

It was a surprisingly interesting vantage point. Jim sprang to his feet, scowling. His head was clearly getting away from him. Maybe he was more frustrated than he thought. Fortunately, a scowl was fairly appropriate for the situation, so it went unnoticed. They stared at each other for a moment before Jim smirked.

"You've just wasted time arguing with me, Spock. Doesn't that mean you are being unproductive?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I am often considerably less productive in your presence captain. Approximately 6.22%."

"That's considerable?" Jim hummed, smirking. "Clearly I haven't been doing my job."

"You have performed the functions of you position within expected human capacity." Spock informed him with a light tilt of his head.

Now Jim leveled him with a heavy look, eyes dancing. "Not that job, Spock. We're off shift. I wasn't talking to you as your Captain."

Spock's eyebrows raised sharply, but Jim had already turned on his heel and was leaving the bridge. Curious. Uhura came up to put her hand on her arm, drawing his attention.

Jim wasn't all that surprised that Spock had left him to his own devices. He had other things that drew his attention. Besides, it would kind of ruin his dramatic, flirty exit if Spock followed him. Which would be right in line with most of their interactions, but that was really not the point.

He had managed to get a dinner that had the potential to make McCoy happy when he spotted Scotty. Just the guy he needed to talk to. Perfect. Jim slid into a seat across from him, beaming. Keenser looked between them suspiciously. Maybe he hadn't heard yet.

"How are you?" Jim asked, staving off his health food as long as possible.

Scotty shifted awkwardly. "Fine. Cap'n. What can ah do fur ye?"

"Let me apologize for our misunderstanding this morning?" Jim implored.

Scotty flushed a little red. "Ye don't-"

Jim raised a hand to stop him. "I got sick. That's all. It wasn't so bad I needed to go to sickbay, but you know how he is...if I wasn't going to get checked, then he was going to keep an eye on me, you know?"

Scotty nodded firmly. "Ah see. It's naw a surprise. The lad does care fur ye."

Jim blushed a little, busying himself with his food. "So yeah. Sorry for the shock to the system."

"It's nothing Cap'n."

Keenser muttered something, Jim was only half listening, and Scotty reprimanded him immediately. He just smiled awkwardly when Jim gave him a questioning look. Jim brushed it off after a moment and turned the discussion to the Enterprise. Yes, technically he was talking work, but she was also Scotty's first love. A lot of his crew, actually, adored their work. He was reminded of the young crew members dragging Vulcans up to him to talk science.

"Hey Scotty." Jim half interrupted a ramble, but he didn't seem to find it all that insulting. "You hang out with your crew off hours, right?"

"Yeah." he blinked, wondering where this line of questioning was going.

"What do you guys usually talk about?"

Jim was immediately bombarded with more engineering. That answered that. Most of his crew _really_ liked their jobs. Was that why they were so eager to talk to him about work and why they liked him? Because he _was_ talking about their hobbies with them? That didn't explain the awkward lulls in conversation whenever he entered the room, but it did explain why he could know absolutely no personal information about them and still have them think he was their best friend.

… .. . .. …

Jim glanced up from his PADD, over towards his computer. He was finishing preliminary instructions because they were going to enter orbit while he was asleep. His computer was beeping incessantly, informing him that someone wanted a live video conference. With a confused sigh, Jim set aside his work and headed over to his desk. His mother.

Jim shrugged a little, settling into his chair. It was probably a bit too late to get Spock, but he could talk to her on his own. It might even be a good chance to set down ground rules.

He pulled the chat up with a smile. "Hey mom."

"JIM!" She shrieked, causing him to flail back from his computer. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

Jim stared at her for a moment, rubbing his ears and subtly turning down the volume on his computer. "Ow."

She was heaving in alarm. "Are you out of your mind? What's wrong with you?"

"My guess would be a lot." Jim snapped. "What are you angry at me for now?"

Winona paused, eyes softening a little. "Jim, baby. I'm so sorry. Just...talk to me? Are you alright? Is everything okay between you and your boyfriend?"

Jim scrunched up his face in confusion. "Me and Spock? Yeah. Everything's great. Why?"

She seemed to relax a bit, but the worry in her eyes only intensified. "What...I mean...how is your relationship...progressing?"

"Um...What exactly are you asking me?"

"It's just...well, I know you Jim." She gave a guilty little smile. "Well enough, anyway. And...you're satisfied with your relationship? And...well, your intimacy level?"

He flushed scarlet, realizing exactly what had his mother in such a fuss. "Are you seriously worked up because Spock and I aren't sleeping together?"

She blushed a little. "Well..."

Jim groaned, smacking his head on his desk for a moment before fixing his mother with a wholly unamused look. "Seriously? This was worth bugging Sam about? No, Spock and I aren't having sex. Yes, I am perfectly content in this situation. Geez, mom. Is it such a bad thing that I'm not sleeping with my boyfriend? Our relationship is built off of more than just sexual gratification. In fact, currently it isn't built off of that at all."

Winona smiled. "You must really like him."

Jim blushed. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you wouldn't be in a romantic relationship with someone if you didn't." She looked unfairly pleased. "_You_ don't sleep with people for their personality. And you don't sleep with people if you like their personality. Now, admittedly you haven't slept with him yet, but you don't do romance if you like people either."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "I think you've been reading too many tabloids. You've got the wrong idea about me."

"Then what idea should I have?"

Jim didn't know how to respond. Not without telling her that their relationship was a lie. So he just shook his head. When he looked back up to meet his mother's eyes, she had reigned in some of her giddiness. She was still far too happy for her own good, or Jim's for that matter, but at least it looked like she was content to leave it alone for now.

"So when do I get to meet him?" She demanded, changing the conversation.

Jim scowled. "Not now. It's late. He's probably meditating."

"Would it hurt to ask?"

"Yes."

"But-"

"Mom!" Jim snapped. "We can make plans. But I'm not going to just spring this on him because you want to talk now."

She paused, pouting. "Okay. I'll send you a message with my schedule. We'll set up a time to talk. Soon, though."

"Yes mom." Jim sighed, smiling a little. "I'll talk to you soon. I promise. Good bye."

She looked momentarily surprised, before nodding. "Good bye."

Jim shut his computer down, remaining perfectly calm until the correspondence was closed. With a growl, he then stood and slammed his fist into his wall. What was with everyone calling him a slut? He found himself storming out of his room and pounding on Spock's door. It was only a second after he started banging that he realized what he was doing. Somehow, he was still too angry to stop himself.

Spock opened the door with eyebrow pre-raised. "Jim."

Jim gritted his teeth. "Can I come in?"

Spock stepped aside quickly, and Jim immediately raced into the room. He moved to sit on the couch, with Spock following closely.

"Am I a slut?"

Spock lowered both eyebrows in something of a glare. "You are not. Inform me who used this term to refer to you."

"No one." Jim waved his hand dismissively. "It was just implied. How can you be sure I'm not? I mean, I used to be a bit loose in the academy, but I don't sleep with that many people."

"I am aware of your previous sexual reputation. Your behavior has never been excessive for a human. Further more, Jim, you should not allow anyone to attach a base connotation to your actions." Spock knelt in front of him. "Inform me who insinuated this about you."

Jim blinked, surprisingly pleased that Spock didn't care and didn't think less of him for it. "Don't worry about it, Spock. Thanks."

"I am not worried." Spock informed him curtly. "You can not allow any crew member to behave in such manner. Inform me who has insinuated this about you."

"It wasn't a crew member." Jim frowned. "It's nothing. Spock. Hey, Spock...It's okay."

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the side of Spock's face, shifted them back towards his neck. He was surprised, could feel a tremble of anger through the bond, through the shielding. Jim rubbed his thumb just below Spock's ear, watched him flutter his eyes shut. Spock looked significantly calmer. He brought his hands up, gripping Jim's wrists softly, thumbs rubbing circles against the pulse points there. Jim slid off the couch, so he was kneeling with Spock on the ground. Spock opened his eyes, watching Jim silently.

"It's okay." Jim repeated. "It's okay Spock."

Spock leaned into his touch, breathing deeply through his nose. "Jim. I do not wish to allow anyone to insult you. I apologize for my anger. I am...protective of you."

Jim grinned. "I hadn't guessed."

"Jim." Spock fixed him with a surprisingly open, flat look.

Jim's smile softened and he shook his head. "Take down the shield Spock. It's okay."

Spock hesitated, his eyes showing a degree of uncertainty, but he did so. Jim could feel immediately a good deal of anger coming from Spock. It made Jim feel good, better that he should have. Carefully, gently, Jim pushed that back, used the bond. He fed it the comfort, the happiness, everything Spock was making him feel. There was no anger left, no disappointment or anything like that.

Spock jerked back, the shield flying up between them almost painfully.

Jim gasped, leaning back against the couch. "Spock..."

Spock stood sharply, placing his hands at his back. "I apologize, Jim. I was unprepared for the...efficiency of the bond for transferring emotions."

Jim winced. "Shit. Sorry. I didn't even think...I'm a colossal jackass making you deal with my emotions. God. I'm sorry."

"You do not need to apologize, Jim." Spock righted himself. "You have been very efficient in expressing your...feelings...on the matter."

Jim snorted out a chuckle, lifting himself out of the extremely awkward position he had slid into and onto the couch. "So it's no big deal now?"

"Indeed." Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "How is your current mental state?"

Jim paused, actually thinking about it. "A little bit of a headache...feeling a bit tired...but good. I feel...really good."

Spock's eyes softened a little. Jim grinned.

"Sorry that I bothered you over all that." He stood up from the couch with a little shrug. "But thanks. It helps a lot knowing I'm just over reacting to things. My ever logical first officer as always, you always set me straight."

Spock eyed him a moment before nodding curtly. "If there is nothing else, Jim, I wish to return to my meditation. We will discuss the matter further over breakfast."

"Yeah. Okay." Jim nodded.

After a quick goodnight, Jim was back in his room. Significantly fewer cat calls greeted him as he was leaving Spock's room. Apparently you just didn't mess with a guy who already said he wasn't doing PDA's on his 'anniversary'. Jim couldn't help but snort out a laugh at that. Uhura hadn't been kidding about Chekov. Oh well, he'd set him straight or he'd make him sad with the rest of the crew when they 'broke up'. Either way, it wasn't going to hurt anything. Jim finished sending off those orders and turned in for the night. Tomorrow they'd be on a new adventure, and nothing could dampen his spirits at that.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**Poor Scotty. He just doesn't know how to handle Jim.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Alas, I don't own Star Trek. It is a shame, for truth. Nor do I own Sweeney Todd or any references to it.**

**And to those of you who have expressed aggravation at the urge to review on mobile devices, sorry.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

"Whoa." Jim leaned down over Spock's station, invading his personal space like it was nothing, which, all things considered, it probably was. "Is that _all_ a thunder storm?"

"Yes, Captain." Spock shifted the array focus out to show the breadth of the storm. "It appears to be covering approximately 321.869 kilometers diameter. Peak winds appear to be approximately 153 kilometers per hour. It is a considerable storm."

Jim whistled. "Yeah. I guess so. Any other mega-storms?"

"None of this magnitude." Spock pulled up the current list of storms they were keeping track of. "As you can see, Captain, they are predominately limited to 40.234 kilometers in diameter. There are seven notable rain storms, two of which are experiencing thunder, four snowstorms of importance, one hail storm, twenty windstorms and a storm formation that appears it will soon develop into a tornado."

Jim hummed. "No one's beaming down near that. How many biomes?"

"There appear to be approximately 9 differentiated biomes on the planet." Spock informed him curtly, shifting the screen to show the somewhat hypothetical map they were starting to form, showing the separation of the biomes.

"Hm." Jim furrowed his brow. "What are the numbers on these storms? It seems like they're cropping up awfully fast."

"Indeed. I believe Ensign Chevok is currently calculating the numbers. It has made predicting and tracking the storms exceedingly challenging."

Jim laughed at the little gleam in his Science Officer's eyes. "Carry on Mr. Spock."

With a grin, he skidded across the bridge, flinging himself into Chekov's space with a wild look in his eyes. "A little green elf told me you have some numbers for me Ensign."

Chekov giggled. "Da. I am hawving numbers Keptin."

Jim leaned down to look, oblivious of the looks his bridge crew were giving him. "Oh wow. Is the science crew feeding these to your station directly?"

"Da."

"Keep up the good work." Jim turned around to face the rest of his crew, deciding where to go next.

Everyone snapped around in their chairs at once, back to their stations. Well, except for Uhura. She was grinning at him. Jim felt kind of bad, because she didn't have a lot to do while they were making this report. So while his crew was having fun observing, she and her department were working on their own pet projects. Jim jogged over, a charming smile on his face. If it was at all possible, her smile brightened.

"How is my magnificent communications officer doing?" Jim leaned against the console there.

She shook her head. "Just happy to see you're acting like usual."

"Usual?" Jim frowned, trying to think about what he was doing.

"Well..." She cocked her head to the side. "Maybe a _bit_ more excited than usual."

Jim leaned a bit closer, dropping his voice. "I didn't think about it. What do I usually do?"

"Just this." She admitted softly. "You run around up here until everyone gets tired of you asking questions every few minutes, which usually takes a day or two, and then you start seeking out individual reports down among the rest of the crew."

"Huh." He folded his arms across his chest, thinking how many times in the last year he _had_ done something like that. "Isn't that a little unprofessional on my part?"

Uhura rolled her eyes. "No Captain. It really isn't."

"Okay..." Jim hummed. "That's...weird..."

"No. It isn't." She narrowed her eyes, leaning forward a bit. "Stop it right there. You are doing good things. Now take a look at my report, smirk and then go back to pestering Spock."

Jim blushed, but followed her orders. He was surprised by just how insistent she could be. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing being a bit like her. She clearly had a far better handle on how he acted normally than he did. That was starting to get really annoying.

… .. . .. …

"No wait. Hear me out." Jim insisted.

Spock and McCoy continued to stare at him. Clearly they were not keen on his idea. Jim raised his hands, attempting to seem marginally less crazy.

"Look. Spock'll be right there next to me, in case anything even starts to look like it'll go wrong. It'll only be for a little while, and the second he says we're done, we're done. I won't protest. It's an important experiment anyway. If I notice anything wrong, _I'll_ put a stop to it. No pushing limits I shouldn't." Jim finished with a winning smile.

"No."

Jim fixed McCoy with a flat look. "Oh come on."

"I find I agree with Doctor McCoy, as regrettable as that may be."

Jim pouted at Spock, widening his eyes to look hurt. "I thought you'd be on my side."

Spock shifted in his seat, just a little, and Jim didn't miss it that time. "Captain..."

"Oh no you don't." McCoy growled. "Don't even start playing those mind games. This I why I say no. Because Spock _won't_ be able to think rationally about how safe you are."

Now Spock looked affronted, raising an eyebrow. "I believe you are underestimating me, Doctor. I am quite capable of behaving logically, even in proximity to Jim's emotions."

"Oh really?" McCoy saw his eyebrow and raised him a second one. "Because I have multiple occurrences I can site that prove otherwise. Besides, your productivity will plummet and Jim will be as useful as a road-lizard in a tea kettle."

"I'm not even going to pretend I understand what that idiom means." Jim scowled at him.

Bones rolled his eyes. "I'm still not convinced that it's safe, anyway."

"We went over this Bones." Jim sighed. "All of the tests said it would be fine. I _want_ to do this. You said I should, even."

"That is not what I said!" McCoy choked out an indignant gasp.

"I find I am not curious to know your opinion in that regard." Spock glanced between them. "Jim, what you propose is potentially dangerous. It would be the longest such act you have yet to undergo."

Jim laughed. "Spock! I've been camping before."

"Camping in a familiar and already explored territory has different requirements to an expedition on an unfamiliar planet." Spock scolded.

"Besides," McCoy interrupted. "I don't like the plan of splitting everyone up in pairs. You should have larger teams than that."

"Again." Jim rolled his eyes, tapping the lunch table distractedly. "Every group has at least one person trained in basic field medicine, not that it'll be necessary because we're going to be in contact with the Enterprise the entire time. Larger groups will make navigation and safety _more_ difficult. Don't roll your eyes at me. You know how easy it is for something to go wrong in a large group. Besides, I'm not sending more of my crew down there and I'm not cutting back on the number of exploration parties. My entire science crew assures me that we'll get the best information from these spots."

"Why am I staying on the ship then?"

"Because I need my chief medical officer up here in case someone falls off a cliff or has an allergic reaction to something or some other purely random and highly unlikely occurrence. Just in case." Jim noted the unimpressed look on his faced and tried another tactic. "Besides, do you really want to ride around in a shuttle _and_ be beamed down on an unknown planet, potentially through a storm?"

McCoy blanched. "No. And I don't want you to either. Why do you have to go in the middle of a storm? And why Spock? Why not take an actual medical personnel?"

"My medical training, while not a primary area of study, more than surpasses the requirements for Starfleet Officers." Spock protested blandly.

"That." Jim pointed to him with a smile. "And the fact that Spock's the Science Officer, so he deserves to go to the best spot on the planet, and thirdly, because Spock can get in my head and find me if I do happen to do this hypothetical stupid thing you seem to expect so much of me. So really, you have nothing valid to complain about. My only question is why Spock doesn't want to go along with it."

Spock raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment that he was supposed to start defending his position. "It is illogical for the captain to leave his starship. Further more, you are likely to be a hindrance."

Jim gaped at him. "Gee, why don't you tell me how you really feel?"

Spock's eyebrow twitched disapprovingly. "I do not mean that to cause you distress, Jim. However, it is highly likely that you will prove to be a distraction while I am attempting to gather scientific data. It is therefor more logical that I do not have a partner or, barring that, am allowed to choose one that will not detract from my intended work."

"So I'm a distraction now?" Jim purred in amusement, shifting how he was sitting to brush his calf against Spock's.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "The logical action for you would be to attempt to disprove this, not provide further evidence to prove my hypothesis."

Jim straightened himself out, coughing awkwardly and dropping his smile. "Yes. Well. Come on Spock. When have I been anything less than professional during a landing or an exploration?"

Spock glanced at McCoy and Jim knew he had won. He strove for professionalism, for distance, and for being careful. There had been a few mistakes over the last year, but none Jim was responsible for. He had a spotless record, and _that_ was something they couldn't argue against. McCoy sighed, turning back to his food first. Considering that argument won, Jim turned back to his lunch.

"Also." Jim muttered around a mouthful. "I want to practice having our bond open."

McCoy spit out his drink, which Jim found impressive. If he knew he could get spit takes from surprising his friend, he might have tried more often. Spock's grip on his fork loosened, and finally he set it down. Apparently this was intense discussion worthy. Considering they'd already had the discussion before, Jim wasn't sure why he was getting that specific look. Maybe because they hadn't talked about it with McCoy? With a sigh, he set his own cutlery down and leaned back in his chair.

"What?"

"You're joking." McCoy hissed, wiping at his mouth. "That is the worst idea I've ever heard."

"Really? Because I think it's great." Jim protested. "We're already working on it. I need to be able to not go into a panic attack every time the shield is dropped, especially if we're beaming down. It would be even better if we could just leave the bond open so it wouldn't be a distraction."

"As we are, as you have stated, already working on it...I can only presume you are suggesting we extend these efforts to work hours." Spock was completely stiff again, bad sign.

"That!" McCoy declared loudly. "That! And the fact that it'll be an even bigger distraction."

"It will not."

"It will, Jim." Spock countered.

Jim sighed. "Fine. Not during the mission, but I promise I'll be significantly better behaved on the bridge. If not a continuous thing, then he can drop the shield at random times so I get more used to the sensation. That way, if I go missing or something you don't risk me getting into a worse spot when you try to find me. Let me work on this. Please?"

McCoy growled. "I'd spend the rest of my shift on the bridge."

"I'm okay with that." Jim insisted, before turning his eyes pleadingly on Spock.

"Very well Jim." Spock nearly sighed, Jim could just tell. "I will, at my discretion."

"That's all I can ask."

… .. . .. …

"How you doing Jim?" McCoy cackled gleefully as Jim rubbed his temples for the third time in six minutes.

Spock was playing havoc on his mind with the sharp drops of the shield. Jim was ignoring it as best he could and, with the exception of one time he stood up sharply, hadn't made a movement towards Spock. That was great. As was the subsiding panic each time. He still twitched and his heart twinged painfully, which McCoy did not approve of at all. It did get easier, though, so even though his lungs felt like they were going to close up, he though he was getting the hang of it. He could recognize the feeling, before Spock dropped the shield, and he was trying to brace for it more. In no time Jim was sure the headache would fade and he could focus on his work.

Spock didn't seem to have lost any of his productivity.

"I'm fine." Jim grimaced, glaring at McCoy. "Don't you have an ensign to hypo or something?"

"I've got plenty of free time for you." McCoy grinned devilishly. "Now hold still while I run a tricorder over you again."

Jim huffed, glaring ineffectually at the view screen when people started looking in his direction. "Laugh it up Bones. I'm still going planet side without you."

Bones froze, glaring at him. "Don't make me hypo you."

Jim opened his mouth to protest, and was cut off by Spock dropping the bond. He whipped his head around to glare at him. Spock glanced back over his shoulder, innocently expressionless. Jim felt 'smug' radiating off of him. Jim smiled sweetly, focusing just enough to send a pang of annoyance through the bond. Spock's expression tightened and he turned back to his station. Victory; Jim. His smugness was cut off by the shield snapping back up. Who knew Spock could be a sore loser? This was something Jim was going to explore.

When Jim returned his attention to McCoy, he found a tricorder in his face. He squeaked, flailing a bit. A few snickers reminded him he was on the bridge. Bones was making him look bad. Jim huffed, settling into his seat. A few more hours and he could just leave. And then it was one more day until he was down on the planet.

… .. . .. …

"Okay." Sulu announced, looking up from the controls. "We're in the right spot. We'll beam you down here. You should be able to reach the Enterprise if anything goes wrong. Be sure to check in every now and then."

Jim glanced up from where he was pulling the backpack on his shoulders. "Seriously Sulu? We know."

"Thank you Lieutenant." Spock nodded, to Sulu's delight.

"Any time commander." Sulu turned back to his controls, positively beaming.

Jim took the moment to glance between them. Sulu was positively soaking in the...what? Compliment? Praise? Thanks, at least. It was positive attention from a commanding officer, something small, though. Something that probably shouldn't mean that much. Well, except it was Spock saying it...and Jim was being an asshole. He shot a smile Sulu's direction when he looked back and the pilot nodded happily.

"Let's get this show on the road." Jim ginned, rubbing his hands together.

Sulu seemed to take that as a go, because seconds later Jim was standing next to Spock in the middle of a tropical storm. The rain was hot and well...wet. So yes, Jim was having a moment of playing Captain obvious. The tall, luscious jungle around him was a little distracting. He could barely see through the canopy above, but those little glimpses were fissured with truly awe inspiring flashes of lightning. Most of the leaves above them were deep, gorgeous shades of purple. Those closer to the ground were brighter, but no less intense. Thin veins of black that eased to red or green, depending on the plant, made their way through the leaves. They reminded Jim of an Earth plant he had seen once, though he couldn't remember the name.

Of the many bushes and grasses around their legs, he found a continuous trend. They looked as though they had been washed in silver, the red and green and purple leaves dipped in translucent paint that left them shimmering and splendid. The colors were all at once overwhelming and somewhat muted. The water falling around them was heavy. So incredibly heavy. Jim felt as if he were going to be washed away.

"Captain." Spock drew his attention.

Jim glanced over to see his absolutely soaked first officer looking up from his tricorder readings. "Yeah?"

"I believe it would be prudent to explore our surroundings and ascertain a secure place for us to establish our camp." Spock tucked his tricorder away.

Jim was remotely grateful that they were waterproof. "Sounds like a plan. Do you have any idea which way we should start, or do we just walk?"

"Initial scans suggested the existence of a cavernous outcropping approximately 4.83 kilometers to the east of this location." Spock inclined his head. "It would be most gratifying to explore this structure, even if it is not suitable as shelter."

Jim grinned, and how the hell was he supposed to say no when Spock used words like gratifying at him. "Alright Mr. Spock. I leave myself in your capable hands. Let's get started."

That proved minutely more difficult than first planned. Not finding east and getting started, that was easy. The walking proved difficult. The rain slowed their pace considerably. Spock took the slow pace in stride, cataloging everything he could and just observing. The wet didn't seem to bother him all that much, though the warm temperature was a likely helping. Jim, however, was not enjoying the trip.

He was wet,again, this was obvious, and felt like his uniform was chafing more than was strictly fair. His lungs burned from the humidity, though he suspected Spock would have preferred a more arid environment in that regard too. The soft moss and tree debris and mulch was turning to mud under them and Jim was constantly risking slipping or sinking. Jim felt hot, overexerted in the moist jungle air. His eyes were bleary from the rain and his head was throbbing. It was altogether disgusting, unsettling, and annoying.

"So." Jim called when he felt like staying silent any longer was going to kill him. "Tell me about this cave we're headed to."

Spock glanced up from where he was scanning a flower he had plucked while walking. "It appears to be a large structure composed of crystalline substructures. It is predominantly subterranean."

"So..." Jim smirked. "It's a giant geode."

"Essentially, yes." Spock inclined his head to allow Jim his little victory. "I am curious to scan the composition of the crystals it is composed of. Further, I wish to inspect just how large this structure is."

Jim nodded enthusiastically, an encouraging smile on his face. Content that he had fulfilled Jim's questions, Spock returned to his work. Jim started looking for other things to entertain himself, such as picking up rocks he found along the way. Spock glanced at him when he initially started doing so, but was mostly ignoring him at this point. Jim kept finding really interesting rocks in fun colors. His favorite was a little, perfectly round black one.

He also had a weird little green one that was jagged on one side and smooth on the other.

Jim found it surprisingly distracting, which was good because otherwise he was going to be bored out of his mind. Not even doing warp core physics could distract him from the miserable nature of their walk. Normally he would love the whole nature excursion thing, but that was being dampened...ha...by the rain.

Jim leaned down while Spock was running scans over something or another to find another rock. This one was red. Actually, it was also smooth on one side and jagged. Jim, in his brilliance, dug the other one out of his bag and started seeing if he couldn't get the two stones to fit together. Yes, sometimes Jim was a little boy, but anything to dull the mind numbing walk. He hadn't realized he stopped walking, focusing intently on his puzzle. His tongue was poking out the corner of his mouth and he had narrowed his eyes.

"Captain."

Jim jumped in surprise "Gah! What?"

Spock raised an eyebrow and Jim glanced down at his hands. Apparently the stones had seen fit to fall into place after all his hard work. It was rough, and some of the points overlapped, but there were no holes between them. Jim felt his face heat up, because it looked a lot like he was holding a heart shaped rock in his hands. Albeit one that was green and red with a fissure in it.

"You are playing with stones." Spock accused.

And yeah, it was an accusation.

Jim rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, shifting the stones to one hand. "Uh...well, I thought they looked like they went together, so I was trying to figure the puzzle out."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "They do not appear to be made out of the same material Captain. There is no logical reason to believe they would fit together."

Jim rolled his eyes. "So what? Things made of different material can't go together? I mean...look. They do. They look like a heart."

Spock glanced down at Jim's hand. "The two stones do not appear in any way similar to the cardiac muscle of any known species."

"I'm talking about the Earth symbol called a heart, Spock, not an actual muscle." Jim sighed.

Spock cocked his head to the side. "Ah. You are referring to the ideograph Terrans have used to denote the concept of the heart. It is also sometimes used as a logogram. That is most illogical and I do not see the resemblance."

Jim felt an eye roll creeping up. "Yeah, well, I'm illogical. Here. Take the red one."

"I do not wish to take one of the rocks."

"Well, too bad. I want you to." Jim smirked. "I used to have something like this with my brother. They were these things called friendship charms. There were two charms, one for each person, and they looked like broken halves of a heart when they were apart. Put together, they made a whole heart."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Why would I desire to poses only half a heart?"

Oh yeah, there was that eye roll. "The point is that someone else has the other half of your heart."

"Do you and your brother still posses there charms?"

Jim shook his head. "No. Sam threw his in the fireplace and I threw mine into a quarry...not a good day. So yeah. Anyway. It may be a bit juvenile, but it's fun. You keep the red one, because that's my color, and I'll keep the green one because it's yours."

Spock glanced down as Jim deposited the wet, smooth stone in his hand. It was highly unorthodox, unusual, and illogical. Jim's bright eyes shone with anticipation and Spock closed his fingers over the stone. It seemed to weigh inexplicable heavier in his palm than just moments before. Jim grinned, positively beaming.

Highly illogical.

… .. . .. …

Jim was gaping. He was highly aware of this fact because he was about half a second form having to spit out a mouthful of water. That or drown.

The geode was mostly buried in the ground, composed of a series of exceptionally tall and jagged rocks. The whole structure seemed to be a hundred feet in diameter or so, by Jim's completely not professional estimate, and about half as tall. It was still impressive. There were a few outcroppings, like points that burst as it bubbled up, sparkling with the promise of more open geodes or nodules. If this was mostly subterranean, he could imagine why it had peaked Spock's interest. It was beautiful, in a somewhat scary way.

There was an opening, somewhat covered by bushes, that was on ground level. It was approximately eight feet tall at the opening, sloping back until it rounded off and reached for the ground, ten feet across, and about the same back.

Spock was standing there, in the middle of the beautiful, glittering grayish-white crystals.

Jim shook his head, spitting out the accumulated water before he trotted over. "So? Like what you see?"

Spock glanced up at him, one eyebrow in his hairline. "Captain."

Jim rolled his eyes. "I wasn't flirting that time. I was serious. What do you think of your geode? Do you like it?"

Spock pursed his lips ever so slightly. "It is illogical to like a geological structure, Captain."

Jim chuckled. "Okay. Fine. Be like that. This looks like it's just about the perfect size to put up our tent though. What do you think? It would offer added protection from the rain and a pretty awesome base camp. At least for the night. Do you think we can set up base here?"

Spock tilted his head in acquiescence. "We may proceed with a camp when I have finished my initial scans."

Jim grinned, shaking a little water from his hair. "Awesome. I'm going to wander around and look at this thing a bit. I promise I won't go climbing in any strange holes or touching weird looking things."

"Indeed." Spock didn't look impressed, returning to his scans.

With that settled, Jim wandered off to go look at other things. Spock could find him when he wanted help with something. The scenery hadn't changed much, but Jim was enjoying it all the same. Somehow it was different when you were exploring as opposed to walking to a destination. Jim had to admit to himself, it was nice out, even with the sticky, hot, gross rain. Chekov had estimated that the storm would be over about half way through their second day. That was just fine with Jim. He was looking forward to getting to dry out a little. Still, the whole place was wonderfully bright and interesting. What more could he ask for?

Jim didn't find anything interesting enough in his wandering to keep him out in that rain for much longer, so he headed back the direction he came, looking for Spock. He was not disappointed. Spock was still drenched, seemingly not bothered by that fact, kneeling in the dirt in the 'cave' looking at its composition. There was a strange shimmer on his skin and hair that wasn't from the rain that made Jim pause. He looked for a moment like he was glowing, a halo of light sparkling off of him. Jim had to stifle his laugh before he approached, or Spock would spend the next three days glaring at him.

When he got himself under control, he trotted over, immediately realizing what he was looking at. "Hey Spock."

"Captain." Spock nodded to him. "I am almost done."

"Good. Good." Jim reached down and buried his hand in Spock's hair.

Spock bristled ever so slightly. "Captain?"

"You're covered in crystal dust." Jim explained. "It's sticking to you because you're wet. That's going to suck later. It's like glittery sand."

Spock hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I will remove the dust at a later point."

Jim chuckled, retrieving his hand. "You should take some back to the ship for Uhura."

"I see no reason why Uhura would desire powdered crystals." Spock turned back to his work in what could almost be called a huff.

"Trust me." Jim insisted. "It'll be great."

Spock stopped responding then, so Jim just leaned against a set of less pointy crystals protruding from the wall and watched him. He could already see the sparkles all over his shirt. Oh well. If his biggest problem on this mission was beaming back up sparkling like an Orion nightclub dancer on Risa during Mardi Gras, then he was filing that under one of the best missions ever. Just so long as it didn't end up being one of those super fine powders that clogged up the ship computers.

Jim grimaced, gingerly standing up from the wall.

A few minutes later Spock stood up from his work and started removing the camping gear from his bag. Jim was more than happy to help. The tent did fit nearly perfectly in their little cave opening and Jim considered that a win on his part, even though no one had said it wouldn't.

"So now what?" Jim asked.

"It is approximately time that you should consume your noon meal." Spock glanced over to see him pulling a disgusted face. "Starfleet protein nibs are perfectly acceptable food, Jim. I do not understand your and Mr. Scott's illogical distaste of them."

Jim pouted, pulling open the tent to go inside. "I don't think your taste buds work."

Spock declined to answer that, because really, he knew better than to argue with Jim on silly things, and followed him into the tent. Jim was already seated on the floor, pulling his boots off and vainly attempting to remove some of the mud with his hands. Spock removed his own quickly and placed them by the entrance to reduce the spread of the mud. He then peeled off his over shirt and set it aside to dry. When he glanced up next, Jim was staring at him.

"Captain?"

"We're on lunch." Jim scolded automatically, before glancing away bashfully. "It's nothing. I was just wondering why I didn't think about changing into something dry."

Spock looked him over, taking note of how the wet clothing clung and it was making Jim very self-conscious. "It will likely prove necessary to don our rain gear for further exploration."

Jim chuckled at the conversation change. "I'll remind you that you were the one who protested it in the first place. Something about it being unnecessarily cumbersome."

"Given the unknown density of the plant life," Spock gave him a scathing eyebrow raise. "Rain gear had the potential to slow down our progression considerably."

Jim nodded, pulling off his shirts in one smooth motion. "As wonderful as that is, I'm soaked. Like, completely."

"Eat, Jim." Spock reminded him, handling his own clothing change briskly.

Jim changed his pants forthright, but left the shirts off. He was already sticky and hot, he didn't need to be sweating all over a fresh shirt. The protein nubs were as dissatisfying as always. Jim relaxed a bit, watching as Spock focused on his PADD, documenting his current findings. Jim stretched out, poking Spock's calf with his foot. Spock ignored him the first five times he did it, but apparently the sixth was the charm because he looked up at Jim flatly.

"Yes Captain?"

Jim rolled his eyes; they were getting quite the work out. "We're on a long expedition trip, would it kill you to call me Jim?"

"No, Jim." Spock acquiesced.

Said blue eyed captain smiled. "Awesome. You do realize Chekov is up there telling everyone that we're making out, right?"

That got Spock's attention. "I did not."

Jim grinned. "Oh yeah. He totally is. He's going to be on about it for days, insisting he can see the signs of how we totally confessed our love for each other, how obvious it is, etc."

Spock raised both eyebrows. "I believe you are doing a disservice to the Ensign."

"I don't know." Jim shrugged. "You tell me. You know him better than I do. Why does he think we'll 'come to our senses' and start liking each other?"

Spock dropped his eyebrows sharply. "Your point has been made, Captain."

Jim stretched again. "I can just imagine how it's playing out in his head. One of us freezing from the rain-" "The rain is more than adequate temperature for both of our needs captain." "-cuddling to stay warm. Or a slip, spraining an ankle and you carry me back to the tent. A tender, quiet moment. A simple kiss, on accident because I just can't control myself. And that unleashes an unbridled passion in you."

"Unbridled passion." Spock repeated dubiously with a quirked eyebrow.

Jim cackled, pleased with that reaction. "Oh obviously! That's how it goes in holovids when two people are secretly in love with each other and haven't even admitted it to themselves."

"And how is one to determine the characters are in love?" Was it his imagination, or was Spock humoring him in this illogical conversation.

"Pft." Jim waved a hand dismissively at him. "_That_ is easy. The sidelong glances, the blushing, the awkwardly sweet moments, the rushing to their side, dolling themselves up to see them when they don't realize they're doing it, all short hand for being in love."

"I see." Spock seemed to be considering something, before he met Jim's eyes with a strange look in his own. "You are in love with me."

Jim turned violet. "I am not! How did you come to_ that_ conclusion?"

"The frequency of your attentions towards me has increased drastically. You are quite often, as you are now, blushing in my presence when we are not discussing work. You have turned to me repeatedly when Doctor McCoy's opinion would be acceptable, and you yourself have described many of our supposedly romantic interactions as 'awkward'." A little smirk stole through the corners of his mouth. "By your own admission, does this not mean you are in love with me? I am given to understand this is not a willing choice, Jim. You need not be ashamed."

Jim gaped at him. "You're teasing me?!"

"That would be highly illogical and unproductive Captain."

He threw his head back laughing. "You almost had me there! No way. If anything _you_ are the one in love with_ me_."

"I respectfully disagree with your assessment Captain." Spock glanced back down at his PADD.

Jim's eyes were twinkling with mischievous intent. "Oh no. You fit even better into the holovid set up. You lied to protect me, even though it goes against everything you stand for. You accepted a wacky proposal. You had a greater investment in our initial relationship, no matter how that may have changed. You have constantly been letting me get away with awkwardly intimate gestures for my 'comfort'. And you can hardly take your eyes off of me. If any one here is in love, it's you."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "A Vulcan has no use for love, Jim."

He smirked. "No, but humans do."

There was a little moment between them acknowledging that both statements were partially wrong and more than accurate enough. And, of course, completely irrelevant. Jim finally broke down laughing, and he could see that little amused look in Spock's eyes. No laughing yet, but he'd get there. After a few good minutes, Jim relaxed back against his bed roll. Spock returned to his work, but he still seemed amused. It was nice to see that he did have an effect on him, even if it was minor. Jim watched his fingers dance over the PADD.

"Hey Spock, would it be so bad?" Jim muttered.

"Would what, Jim?"

"Loving me?" Jim caught the surprised glanced and sat up a bit straighter. "Not...personally. Or...I mean. This just got awkward. Geez. What I meant was, am I a good person? Do you think I could ever be good enough? Or would loving me be some kind of awful torture?"

Spock set aside his PADD, which made Jim incredibly anxious. "No Jim. I do not believe loving you would be bad by any definition of the word."

Jim's heart jumped a little in his chest, and he gave a hopeful little smile. "You think?"

"Yes Jim." He inclined his head a little, thinking on something seriously before he said it. "If the feeling were to be reciprocated and I were given a choice, I find it would be quite logical to be in love with you."

And his heart stuttered. "W-why?"

"Because Jim, you are loyal, smart, strong, and largely selfless. Though you may be impetuous at times, you are capable of deducing a logical and desired outcome from a seemingly illogical action." Spock leaned forward a little. "Your faithfulness is unmatched, as is your capacity for forgiveness. You are courageous and you are bold. You have no need to be humble, as you exceed even your own expectations time and again. You are an exceptional being, Jim and anyone would be privileged to share that with you."

Jim gasped. "Spock...I..."

Spock leaned back. "I do not, however, love you."

Jim gave a nervous chuckle, because it broke the tension, before grinning. "Yeah, well, I think it'd be pretty awesome being in love with you too. Probably wouldn't choose anyone else if I swung that way."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? I would have presumed you would prefer Doctor McCoy."

Jim laughed. "No. Just, no. I love Bones, but he'll always be family and I could never think of him like that." Apparently not even in a situation where he was hypothetically attracted to guys...

"I see. I do not understand your rational for choosing me, however."

"That's easy." Jim leaned in like he was telling him a secret. "You're super smart, and kind, and funny and you're super loyal. Like, willing to go to extremes to be there for me when I need you. You're perfect at grounding me, and helping me. You are the most logical person I know, and you _are_ passionate. You can be incredibly intense and you can be overly cautious at times but you aren't intimidated and I've never seen you ever truly afraid. You're an amazing guy, Spock. Plus, you're totally hot and we'd look fantastic together."

The little attempt at levity did nothing to change the charged look Spock was giving him.

So Jim tried a different tactic, running his bare foot up the side of Spock's calf. "Besides, I'm willing to bet the sex would be mind blowing."

Spock blinked, possibly in shock. "Jim..."

Jim grinned. "Possibly literally if you would show me that whole brain orgasm thing."

Spock glanced away, and was that a hint of an eye roll Jim spied? A laugh would be coming in no time. "Highly illogical."

Jim chuckled. Spock returned to his PADD and Jim moved to peer out the tent, watching the rain fall. Spock would let him know when it was time to do more exploring. He had already known he wouldn't be too much use, aside from holding various items and helping keep an eye out. Spock had said as much, anyway. Still, Jim was grateful to be included.

… .. . .. …

The rest of the day passed relatively quickly. They did a few more explorations of the area, though Spock decided they would leave climbing for after the storm passed. Jim was grateful for that, because the rock looked particularly slippery. With his personal track record, that whole sprained ankle part might just be a little more realistic, though considerably less sexy. Still, he wanted to see the higher nodules soon. It promised to be an interesting exploration. The rain suits thankfully kept them sufficiently dry, but it was a bit like a steamer for Jim. It was far too hot and next time he was taking a beach or something over the tropical jungle.

Actually, the thought of Spock on a beach was equal parts amusing and saddening. Spock would probably spend the entire time sciencing it up.

"So tired." Jim muttered kicking off his boots as he entered the tent.

Spock politely ignored him. Jim had behaved all day, helping as best he could, and not complaining in the slightest. Well, after lunch anyway. Their usual shifts were largely meaningless, however, so they spent a considerable amount of time exploring. Spock could hardly fault him for his exhaustion. The not inconsiderable effort that went into traversing the foreign jungle in the rain was physically draining even to Spock.

Jim flopped back onto the ground after he changed into his sleep clothes, eying his bed roll apprehensively. He wasn't getting to sleep without unrolling it. Conversely, unrolling it meant actually getting up long enough to do work. He could do that or he could just lay there until he mustered up the desire to actually go to bed. He glanced over to see Spock staring at him. He didn't care how immature he looked just then, he was going to lay directly on the floor of the tent for a little while longer.

"Do you desire aid in preparing your sleeping area, Jim?" Spock gave him this little look that could almost be condescending.

"No. I'll get around to it." Jim muttered, staring up at the tent roof.

"Jim-" Spock started to scold him and Jim cast him an annoyed look. "You are tired, Jim. Allow me to assist you."

Jim rolled over to his stomach and pushed himself up. "I've got it, Spock. You don't have to coddle me."

"I am not attempting to coddle you Jim. It is foolish of you to delay your rest. This mission is labor intensive. If you are not up to the task-"

"Damn it Spock." Jim growled with no heat. "Are you _trying_ to call me a weakling? Or is that just a happy coincidence?"

Spock cocked his head to the side. "I am not attempting to do any such thing. I apologize if my words or actions have any such negative connotation."

"I know." Jim side, rolling out his sleeping bag. "You're just being protective. I know."

Spock watched his sharp, agitated movements for a moment before gently placing a hand on Jim's shoulder. Jim glanced up in surprise.

"Jim...may I remove the shield on the bond?"

Jim bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep the shock off his face. "Yeah. I mean, if you want to."

Spock's look didn't change, but suddenly, with the bond singing at the back of his head, Jim could feel all of the uncertainty in his eyes. Spock actually thought he was mad at him. That...was cute. Jim wasn't going to deny it. Even if it was a weird word to use to describe his first officer, it was too perfect.

Spock furrowed his brow ever so slightly. "I did not intend to insult you."

"Spock," Jim reached up, cupping the side of his face gently. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

"I am sorry." Spock looked like he was having a particularly hard time with the thought that he had somehow distressed Jim with his choice of words.

Jim's chest was tight, and the bond was positively quaking in the back of his head and Jim was sick and tired of it. "I know."

So Jim leaned in. It was just a friendly gesture, he told himself. Spock didn't shift, his muscles already as tightly coiled as they could be. His mouth was firm against Jim's, completely still. It was a chaste kiss, not least of all because of that. That was fine with Jim. He'd worked with worse. Once, when Galia was mad at him she had-

"Do not think of others when you are kissing me." Spock told him flatly, pulling back.

Jim chuckled. "Okay. Sorry."

When he leaned back in, Spock was remotely more receptive. Gently, hesitantly, he relaxed, his muscles easing. Jim looped his hands behind Spock's neck, his forearms burning a line down his chest, tilting his head to the left a little as he moved his lips to create gentle friction between them. With no small amount of trepidation, Spock brought his hands up to Jim's shoulders. He kept a firm grip on him, even as he leaned in a bit. Jim sighed, letting his eyes fall shut and his shoulders drop. It wasn't until Spock started to kiss him back, properly, that the bond fell silent.

It was always like that, though. Not just any touch would do.

Spock pulled back first. Jim blinked his eyes open tiredly, a lazy smile on his lips. Spock's cheeks were flushed, eyes wide. Jim slipped his hands from Spock's neck, pushing gently on his chest. It occurred to him, in that second, how ridiculous they must look; Two Starfleet officers, standing slightly stooped in a tent, dressed in their night clothes and clinging to each other in an embrace that any outsider would consider intimate. Jim chuckled, resting his head against Spock's collar.

"I'm sorry." He murmured. "That was weird."

"I am not given to assigning such designations to your actions, Jim." Spock's voice was tight, though his muscles were still far looser than when Jim first kissed him.

Jim laughed. "So you're completely fine with me randomly kissing you?"

"I do not believe it would at all be productive to direct any measure of my thought process to being discontent with your affections Jim." Spock squeezed his shoulders gently. "It makes no notable difference whether your gestures are Vulcan or Terran in origin."

Jim leaned back, looking up at him with a smirk. "You do realize this technically makes Chekov right, right?"

Spock raised an eyebrow, easing his grip on Jim's arms. "You have 'come to your senses' and realized your affections for me?"

Jim rolled his eyes, slapping Spock's chest playfully. "You had better stop teasing me Spock, or I'll start thinking you're pining after me. You seem awful eager for me to want you."

Spock let go, stepping back and placing his hands at his back. "I was not the one who initiated intimate contact, Jim."

Jim's eyes widened and Spock realized immediately what he had done. He reached out quickly, wrapping his hand around the back of Jim's neck in a comforting manner. The bond was not so troublesome that Jim needed the contact immediately, or constantly, but Spock did not wish to risk any fatigue that might be caused. Jim stared at him wide eyed for a moment. He seemed completely frozen. Spock awkwardly squeezed Jim's neck, just putting a light amount of pressure on him, aware that it was usually seen as a comforting gesture. Jim coughed awkwardly, ducking his head a little in acknowledgment of Spock's effort.

"So..." Jim blushed fiercely. "Can we pretend this whole thing didn't just happen?"

Spock gave him a look tinged with incredulity. "I do not believe that will be possible."

"Not literally." Jim insisted. "Just...can we never bring up the fact that that happened ever again?"

"We need not discuss the matter if it causes you discomfort."

Jim folded his arms over his chest petulantly. "Fine. Put the shield back up please. I'm tired and I want to sleep. And I don't want you in my head while I'm dreaming."

"Indeed." Spock raised the shield and removed his hand from Jim's person. "Nor would I wish to be."

"Funny Vulcan." Jim deadpanned. "Very funny."

Jim lay down on top of his bed roll, far too hot to bother covering himself up. He was starting to wonder if maybe this wasn't one of his more awesome ideas. He was hot, tired, and had two more days of guaranteed awkwardness with his First Officer. His only hope was, now that they had fulfilled their awkward quota for the next few days, the universe would take pity on him and let the rest of the trip be uneventful. He wasn't going to bet on that for even a minute, but he could certainly hope.

With a sigh, Jim closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the heavy rainfall.

He could feel grit in his mouth and imagined his teeth were probably sparkling. Fabulous. Who said camping was bad for your dental hygiene? Protein nibs however...

Jim needed to shut his brain off. Now. … Okay, now. Damn. He sighed, flopping over on his back to stare at the roof of the tent. He let his eyes drift over to where Spock was sleeping. Curled up on his side. Was that illogical? Probably not. What ever made you sleep easiest, right? It seemed weird though. Like, shouldn't Spock be sleeping like one of those fairytale princesses?

Not that he was a princess or anything, but it seems more prim and proper that way.

The whole laying perfectly on the back with his arms straight at his side or folded over his chest. That always looked like such a stiff and uncomfortable way to sleep. That seemed to fit Spock perfectly. That or maybe sleeping sitting up in a meditative pose. Either way. But no, he slept curled up on his side with his arm under his head and his hair getting messed up. Was he asleep already, and just instantly curled into that position once he stopped exercising complete control over himself? Or was he laying there staring at the inside of his eyelids, well aware of the fact that he was laying on his side? Did he know Jim was looking at him?

Jim glanced away, realizing how creepy that sounded in his own head. What did it matter anyway, how Spock slept? It wasn't like it hurt anyone. Jim rolled back over towards his side of the tent. What had happened to that awesome feeling in his head after the bond had been open? Was he only allowed that occasionally? That hardly seemed fair at all. Maybe he'd bring it up when they had some free time tomorrow. Spock might know what it's all about.

Content with his decision, Jim finally started to drift off.

… .. . .. …

First order of business, stretch. Second order of business, find out how the sparkle dust managed to get into his bag and coat all of his shirts. Third order of business, try to find something edible on the planet that is not a protein nib. Fourth order of business...pants. Pants should probably be the first or second actually.

Jim ruffled his hair a little, wincing as a painful yawn cracked his jaw. Spock didn't break from his morning routine. A thought occurred to him, and Jim couldn't keep the grin off his face. That apparently got Spock's attention, because he glanced over and raised an eyebrow in silent question. Jim liked to think Spock noticed his smile because he liked it and not because he naturally assumed some disaster or shenanigans were bound to follow.

"Morning Spock." Jim beamed, mischievousness inherent in his cheery tone.

"It is." Spock agreed, though his eyes were doing that thing Jim was starting to realize was sort of like a smile.

"Hey Spock." Jim singsonged, climbing off of his bed and getting ready.

"Yes Jim?" Spock was apparently in a good enough mood to humor him, because he wasn't staring at him like he was crazy.

"Do Vulcan's have facial hair?"

Spock paused, turning to give Jim a proper eyebrow raise. "Are eyebrows not considered facial hair, Jim?"

"Ha. Ha." Jim nearly tripped pulling his pants on. "You know exactly what I mean. Can you grow a beard?"

"I am capable. I do not, however find facial hair to be conducive to my work environment."

"What? Don't be ridiculous. It has nothing to do with your work. You just don't like it because you think it's scratchy, hu?" Jim stuck his tongue out at him, but his back was currently turned.

"If that is what you wish to believe Captain, I will not argue the point."

"That means yes, but you don't want to admit it." Jim told him. "Do you have to will it to grow or are you actively forcing it not to?"

"Neither, Jim. I need simply not shave." Spock glanced over his shoulder. "Do you not maintain a similar regimen for yourself?"

Jim shrugged. "I usually get laser hair removal done so I don't have to worry about it for a while. And this is so not about my manscaping techniques. Do you have to shave every day? Did you shave while I was asleep?"

"Vulcan hair follicles do not grow at the same rate as a humans." Spock didn't elaborate, so Jim was going to take that as a 'I can totally control my body functions so you don't get to see me with scruff'.

"Hu." Jim started looking for his rain gear. "I totally see you as the kind of guy who uses those old fashioned straight razors with the strop and everything. You'd be like a Vulcan Sweeney Todd, without the killing."

"I do not understand your musical reference." Spock informed him curtly.

"That's okay it's like an 1846 penny dreadful that-" Jim paused, letting Spock's words sink in. "Ohhoho _really_ now? You don't get my _musical_ reference?"

Jim turned, grinning like a cat. Spock continued to ignore him, but Jim was not going to let that one slide. As he turned back to his work, he started humming. Even though Spock didn't say anything, Jim just knew that counted as his win. Meanwhile, he would be trying his hardest to imagine what a scruffy Spock looked like. It wasn't easy.

"If you are ready Captain," Spock didn't even ask him to stop, talking right over his humming. "It would be prudent that we begin our work soon."

Jim nodded, fastening up the last of his gear. He thought he looked pretty cool in the tight rain suit. Before he had a chance to really go anywhere with that thought, he found a ration pack shoved in his hands. Spock was not receptive to the puppy eyes Jim was making at him, so with a sigh he ate the crunchy, nasty little things. The least Starfleet could do was find a way to make them flavorless, or coat them in yogurt or something.

"Okay. I ate, can we go now?" Jim whined.

"Yes Captain." Spock agreed.

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Wait. Did you eat?"

"Yes Captain."

Jim gave him a sidelong look for a little longer before shaking his head and stepping out of the tent. It was still raining, but not as heavily as the day before. The wind had picked up, however, making it sting a little bit more when if found a piece of exposed skin. He was sure Spock was absolutely loving the weather somewhere inside that repressed heart of his.

They spent the first part of the day exploring the perimeter of the crystal structure, looking for more openings close to the ground that they could explore. There were a couple they spotted with different colors, one with black crystals. Spock found that to be just killer. Jim didn't know much about geodes, but it was probably strange to have so many openings, let alone with different crystals. Or at least so clearly separated from each other. Jim did come to the conclusion that the sparkly black dust was significantly cooler than the rest though.

"How old is this?" Jim asked when they continued their walk.

"It is difficult to ascertain. I will need to run certain tests when we return to the ship to have an appropriate estimate." Spock was watching him carefully, probably to see if that was a satisfying answer.

"Hm." Jim was really more interested in the structure than anything else. "What kind of massive geological event must have made this?"

Jim wasn't looking at Spock though, and his voice was soft. It was not difficult for him to deduce that Jim's question was rhetorical. Jim was walking as closely to the structure as he could, occasionally flinging his arm out to skim his hand on the often rough surface. He could feel Spock's eyes on him. Part of him wanted to tease, to tell Spock it was illogical to be observing him instead of the planet they were exploring. A larger part of him was wondering what Spock could see. If anyone could tell Jim who he was, would it be Spock? Had he observed him to such a degree that he could calculate his actions, or would Jim always be a mystery to him?

Did Spock continue to watch him because he felt as though it was the only way to even begin to understand him? Or was he watching him out of some fondness for the familiarity? Some respect for the power he could see in his movements, like once watched a predator stalk its territory? What did Spock think when he looked at him?

Jim glanced over, meeting his First Officer's eyes. Spock watched him a moment longer, eyes not intense, but curious in comfortingly familiar way. Jim smiled. Spock glanced away, returning to his work.

The rain stopped not long before midday. It was great to be dry. They hadn't gone so far that it took too long to head back, so they spent lunch in their tent again. Jim had the distinct feeling that was because their climbing gear was in the tent and Spock was not waiting any longer for the chance to go exploring that rock in depth. Jim was just glad they hadn't found any holes that went deep into it yet or they would end up lost inside a giant geode. Well, Jim would anyway.

Jim looked up from where he was doing some of his 'very important' work at a strange sound. Spock also raised his eyes, cocking his head to the side to better hear.

Jim scuttled out the front of the tent. He could hear Spock quietly following him. He didn't bother turning back to look though, because something far more interesting had his attention. Seated not far away on a tall bush, Jim just assumed that was what it was, was something vaguely similar to a bird. It was harsh whites and yellows, opalescent in its feathers and pearlescent in its skin. It's body looked to be about the size of Jim's palm, with a crest nearly twice as long of clear feathers that seemed to pulse on occasion with luminescent colors.

It gave a little cry, and it sounded like harp strings vibrating.

Jim was enthralled. He had just enough presence of mind to hope Spock was recording it, because it was beautiful. That and it was the first wildlife they'd seen since beaming down. A fact likely caused by the sudden weather change. Jim finally wrenched his eyes from it, because he noticed Spock was moving right next to him. Spock was being a good scientist and not being caught up in how pretty it was.

Spock had gotten close enough to run tricorder scans on it, and Jim fought down a smile.

Definitely a fairytale princess.

Spock continued to observe it until it flew off, no longer humoring them. Seeing that he was going to be distracted with that for a while, Jim started looking for new means of entertainment. Entertainment that was readily provided when he started climbing a tree. It was made significantly easier by this tree being a series of sealed together wooden strings, like the twined muscles inside a body. He had managed to get up to about twenty four feet when he realized that probably wasn't the safest means of entertainment.

He pulled himself onto a low branch, though it looked more like a tree growing out of a bundle of trees. It probably actually was, now that Jim though about it.

Sitting damn near thirty feet up, Jim had one hell of a view.

He also had moss, on everything. It was purple moss. Everything was purple, wasn't it? He slumped a little, wiping his hands on his pants and finding that didn't help the crushed, purple moss that was staining his fingertips. Climbing down was going to be fun, if it didn't kill him. He scanned the ground, peering through tall bushes and low hanging tree limbs until he spotted glossy black hair and a science blue shirt. Spock didn't seem to notice that Jim had disappeared yet. Who knew what he would do when he did notice.

Jim liked it up there. It was quiet, private. He wasn't going to say he had problems with Spock being in the area. Frankly, Spock could be sitting up there with him and he'd still feel pretty good. It was like, even if Spock was there, Jim could still feel like he was in private or something. Spock wasn't an intrusion. Jim didn't feel like he had to be _in public_ around him. Now wasn't that quite a curious little discovery? Jim was used to being private around Bones. He'd have never survived the academy, let alone his first year in command, if he hadn't given up on that pretense of Bones being public fast. But Jim wasn't even fully private with his mother.

Spock was someone he could be private with, though. Spock was safe. Anything Jim did with Spock that was private would stay private. Spock was a private person, a trustworthy person. Jim would never think to go around sharing all of Spock's private moments, were he privy to them. He'd keep that stuff to himself and silently gloat that no one else got to see Spock truly acting in private.

"Jim!" Spock called up from the foot of the tree.

Jim glanced down, beaming at the currently tiny man. "Come on up!"

He could see Spock cock his head to the side, and could perfectly imagine the raise eyebrow. "To what ends, Captain?"

"A new prospective." Jim challenged, rocking a little on the branch.

He was secretly pretty happy that Spock was actually raising his voice. Obviously he had to in order to assure Jim could hear him, but he also could have taken out his communicator and told him to get down. Spock may have just been humoring him, or assuming he wouldn't answer if he did that. Then again, Spock may just actually not feel like being utterly, perfectly logical. Who needed to think every little thing through?

Jim felt like his heart had started climbing again with out him, because when he saw Spock start up the tree, he found his heart was about ten feet above his head. He scooted out farther on the branch, in anticipation of Spock getting up on his level. It wasn't going to take long, by the swift, easy movements he could see. Spock's muscles stretched elegantly, swinging himself up in a graceful, continuous movement. There was no hesitation, no awkward repositioning, just a dangerous predator climbing swiftly for its prey.

Okay. Jim needed a different thought. Because that was vaguely unsettling.

Spock was up and on the branch with a quick swing, eying Jim curiously. "Jim?"

He laughed. "Not that I'm not flattered, but you should consider looking at the awesome view, not me."

He glanced over to see Spock staring at him a moment longer. He felt his cheeks heat up and Spock turned away, looking out at the jungle around them. It was a nice view.

Jim leaned over, pressing his shoulder to Spock's. "It's nice out here."

Spock didn't answer immediately. "Indeed."

"So." Jim cocked his head to the side, bumping it on Spock's chin. "Find out anything interesting about the boy bird?"

"Why are you assured it was male?" Spock didn't move away.

"Well." Jim chuckled. "The males of most species tend to have prominent means of display, including their calls, more...ostentatious coloring, and tend to be the prettier ones."

Now Spock did shift, apparently to look down at Jim. "Indeed. As you have yet to see the counterpart you can not ascertain that this specimen was the more colorful or noticeable of the species. You can not determine the gender from one specimen alone. Nor can you determine, based on statistical likelihood, the actual gender of the bird in question without a thorough examination."

Jim snorted. "Okay Spock. I get it. I'll call it something other than 'boy bird' from now on."

"You need not alter your method of referring to the specimen, Jim." Spock was starting to sound amused.

Jim hummed, letting his eyes fall shut. "So what you're saying is I'm going to be illogical anyway and that is the least troublesome name I could have come up with for it."

Spock was silent for a moment before Jim felt his hand press at his lower back and he figured he was probably swaying back or something and about to fall off. "I was capable of retrieving quite a bit of interesting data, Jim. You are welcome to read it if you desire."

Jim smiled, opening his eyes and straightening up so he could give Spock a grateful look. "That'd be fun. Later. Right now, I've got the feeling we're going to go climb that geode and do some more exploring."

"Is that what you wish?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "We're here for a reason Spock, not to sit in a tree."

"Indeed."

Jim hesitated only a moment before extending his fingers for a Vulcan kiss, innocent smile on his face. Spock regarded him for a moment curiously before meeting the gesture. Jim decided it felt different than just holding Spock's hand or tangling their fingers. It was the difference between rescue breathing and kissing. One was a gesture of affection, the other meant to save a life. As Spock withdrew and started down, a fleeting question passed through Jim's mind; which one was which?

Jim shook his head and started down himself.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**So yeah. Things are starting to heat up a little. I'm thinking I should probably change this from Friendship to Romance right about now.**

**The purple leaf plant Jim is thinking of is Persian Shield. Not that anyone probably even remembers the plants at this point.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I think it's safe to say I don't own Star Trek.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

"Well." Jim shifted awkwardly in the smooth, dark recess high up on the geode. "This is cozy."

Spock seemed to acknowledge his speaking with a look of annoyance. "You are speaking facetiously. I will remind you that this was your decision, Jim."

Jim rolled his eyes. "We've been climbing and wandering around for hours, Spock. You've found several interesting creatures, and some amazing geological finds. We agreed _together_ that resting for two hours would be a good idea. We can climb back down before the sun sets and then we'll be rested enough that we can do a night exploration. You liked this idea five minutes ago. What changed? The fact that the nearest safe spot is a little cramped?"

Spock didn't answer for a long moment. "Nothing has changed, Jim. I am simply advising you not to complain."

Jim snorted, curling up on himself so he wasn't touching him at all. It was an impressively tight ball. He looked deeper into the crevice, because he got dizzy when he looked the other direction. He didn't notice Spock moving until his hand wrapped around his wrist. Jim tensed, but didn't move. He couldn't risk falling yanking himself back, but he wasn't really in the mood to be humoring Spock. Which he supposed was pretty obvious because he didn't react when Spock rubbed his thumb against the inside of his wrist. He just made a strangled noise of annoyance and curled deeper in on himself.

He was also promptly reminded of Spock's significantly greater strength when he was pulled across the little alcove. Jim blinked in surprise, but didn't really have much time to react as Spock shifted his weight. Jim found himself sprawled out in Spock's arms, his back pressed firmly to his chest. One of Spock's arms was wrapped firmly around his stomach, squeezing him in a surprisingly comfortable way. The other hand was still clasped around his wrist, holding Jim's arm across his chest. Spock had buried his face in Jim's neck and was gently nuzzling the skin behind his ear.

Jim was completely thrown off.

"Rest Jim." Spock ordered softly against his neck.

Jim grumbled, because he was not going to be placated by cuddling. "I wasn't complaining."

Spock's nose against his skin was surprisingly distracting. "I will not debate this matter with you Jim. Your time would be better spent resting."

Jim growled, squirming a bit. "I can't sleep like this."

"You will manage." Spock's voice had a hard note to it.

Jim gulped. It was...hard to argue with him like that. That tone made Jim just want to melt and do as he asked, and he wasn't used to ever feeling compliant. After a protesting moment longer of sitting tense in his First Officer's arms, Jim relaxed with a sigh. It was a little stifling in Spock's arms, because of the hot weather, but it was also really nice. It was like sitting in a steam room, the heat seeped into his muscles and flooded a sleepy, deep contentment through his system. Spock's grip loosened slightly as he felt the tension go out of Jim. He wasn't sure just when his eyes shut, but he opened them slightly when Spock shifted so both of his arms were loosely wrapped around his waist. Jim was asleep in seconds.

He woke what he assumed was two hours later to Spock gently brushing his hands on his biceps and muttering his name in his ear. He felt a little shudder run through him as the last grips of sleep tried to drag him back down. Jim rolled his shoulders and stretched, ignoring the interesting points of Spock's body that put him in contact with.

Spock didn't so much as move. "Captain."

Jim smirked, muffling a yawn in his forearm. "Mm. Time to go now?"

"Indeed." Spock shifted, ever so slightly, and Jim figured cuddle time was over.

It had probably mostly been to keep him from rolling out of the hole six stories up in a rock. A thought that, having just occurred to Jim, was somewhat disconcerting. He managed to shuffle himself back to his side of the hole without elbowing or kneeing Spock. After a little bit of prep, they were back on their lines and starting down the rock. Jim couldn't see the sun set, but he could see the sky, having been mostly gray up until that point, turning a deep golden-orange. Jim didn't really have the time to sit and marvel, but he decided if he ever came back he was definitely spending an evening at a beach. Dimly, he wondered if there were any with purple sand.

Darkness was beginning to settle over the jungle, so it was back to the tent to prep for a night mission. Fortunately, they weren't going to have to worry about the temperature dropping so low that they needed protective gear. In fact, Jim figured it might actually be nice, other than the darkness.

Jim strapped on a tricorder and a light, running through protocol on these things in his head.

He didn't even notice, when Spock handed him his rations, still deep in thought as he ate. He hadn't even realized he'd finished until Spock asked him if he was ready. Somehow, during his checklist, he noticed that he had eaten and was actually ready. When he told Spock as much, he simply received a nod. Spock handed over a fresh canteen of water and Jim was quick to strap that on too.

"Alright." Jim grinned. "Let's go."

Spock nodded and lead the way. Jim found very quickly that it was too dark for his eyes to quite make things out, the three moons currently up were too blocked by the tree coverage. Spock didn't seem to mind Jim keeping close. Jim didn't actually reach out to touch him, because he was acutely aware of where Spock was. Maybe it was the bond, or the fact that Spock was a different temperature than the ambient air, or some awareness of electromagnetism or something. Either way, Jim was keeping track of where he was based on Spock's presence in the space around him.

The jungle sounded so alive. Jim could hear soft rumbles and chirps and the incessant rustling the farther they traveled from the geode mountain. Apparently a night mission was a fantastic idea, because everything seemed so alive around them, to the point where it seemed dead in retrospect. There had been nothing, a blinding isolation and now he was stepping into a thriving world that moved around him in its almost invisible way.

The bio-luminescence started to make itself apparent about thirty minutes into their walk, when the last traces of light were gone from the ground level. It was just a few distinct plants, clearly trying to attract certain animals to spread their seeds. All the same, the faint white glow was well worth the effort. Spock was taking every chance to catalog the new reactions he was finding in the plants. Jim was keeping his eyes open for animals and occasionally scanning some of the plants that _hadn't_ changed just to see if everything was the same or if they were doing something different on their own. It didn't mean much, but he was sure Spock would be grateful for any assistance he was trying to provide. Spock could be cool like that on occasion.

Jim's eyes flicked sideways, catching a flash of colorful movement. His breath hitched as two big, yellow eyes blinked at him separately. Carefully, he eased backwards, until he could tap gently on Spock's shoulder. He could hear the slight shift, wasn't going to look away long enough to ensure Spock was looking.

Jim eased forward a bit, bringing his tricorder up in an attempt to scan the thing. It was a vague shape, not least of all because of the rhythmic, dull pulse of light along its fur. It appeared to be the size of a human baby, though certainly not the same shape, with a very long tail, a puff on the end of that. The pulsing light made its shifty movements hard to focus on. Based on the slight hunch to its spindly limbs, Jim got the feeling the light was something of a warning system, saying it was about to be a very unhappy lemur/tarsier thing.

Spock was apparently content to let Jim inspect it, because he didn't notice him moving behind him.

So Jim completed one scan, inched a bit closer, and completed a second one. He had just pressed for a third scan when it apparently decided he was too close and alerted him to this fact with a blinding flash of light. Jim stumbled back, blinking and rubbing at his eyes. He felt Spock's hands on his arms and figured Spock would still be able to see. He had probably seen it coming too.

Jim's eyes were watering something awful and he screwed his eyes shut.

Spock took hold of his wrists, when he made to rub at his eyes more fiercely, so he had to just stand there awkwardly, wishing the blinding spots would just fade already.

"Perhaps it would be best if we were to return to the camp."

Jim shook his head, which turned out not to be a good idea because it made his head throb. "I'll be okay soon. Really. On the positive side, now we know what that thing does when it's scared, so we have valuable information."

Spock didn't say 'indeed' so Jim got the feeling his statement wasn't really appreciated. Spock finally let go of his wrists. Jim valiantly didn't reach up and rub his eyes. Several minutes later, Jim was starting to get his vision back, he could tell, because everything was going dark. He would rather the dark then contending with flashes of light. After a while, the pain eased too and Jim almost felt like he was back to normal.

"Next time, you get to approach the blinking, big eyed rat."

Spock didn't call him on that one, so Jim assumed the annoyance and headache was still inherent in his voice.

… .. . .. …

"All in all, good mission." Jim muttered, peeling off his shirts.

He was only moderately surprised to find Spock immediately in his face as soon as his shirts disappeared. Jim resigned himself to the inspection of his eyes, though at that point he would have really just preferred to lay dawn and go to bed. He understood. If Spock had been the one who had been temporarily blinded, Jim wouldn't have been near as patient. He'd probably call Sulu up to get them and thrown a hissy fit until McCoy did a full physical and work-up on him. So standing still for his inspection wasn't that bad, all in all.

Spock pulled back with out saying anything, so Jim assumed he was going to get to keep his eyes for another day.

"Good night Spock." Jim sighed, just about collapsing into his bed.

His pants could just stay where they were. He wasn't going to bother changing. He noticed Spock hesitate for a moment, because he could still feel him standing to his back. But Spock turned and finished getting ready for bed without so much as a good night.

Jim remembered, as Spock turned out the lights, that he had wanted to ask him about why the bond made his head feel the way it did and made him so sleepy.

It was an executive decision to put if off for another time.

A decision Jim was sort of coming to regret after a poor nights sleep as soon as he got into an argument with Spock.

"Fine!" Jim screamed, not caring at all that he was probably scaring off every animal in a fifty meter radius. "Just...Ugh!"

Spock blinked at him, folding his arms behind his back. "It is good that you have come to see the logic in my argument, Captain."

Jim snarled. "Get back to the fucking tent."

"I do not understand your continued aggression." Spock followed closely. "You have already agreed to-"

"Shut up." Jim snapped, voice icy. "I'm done speaking to you."

Spock fell silent, but that didn't make Jim much happier. He was positively seething. That Spock could even think...No. Jim wasn't going to let himself get pissed off because his fian-er-first officer was questioning him. He _knew_ what this was all about. He knew Spock thought he was just protecting him. Spock didn't _know_ him. Didn't _know_ how Jim felt about being treated like that. They were going to have a hell of a conversation about it, just as soon as Jim could calm himself down. Maybe after a consultation with Uhura.

Spock didn't speak to him again before he settled down to rest. Jim picked up a PADD so he didn't have to look at him. After all _he_ didn't need to rest in preparation for a night mission, did he?

Jim could feel his hand aching from his grip on the PADD. Jim glanced over, saw Spock sleeping, and a rage boiled in him. Fine. He'd agreed that he'd stay in the tent, rather than go on a night mission so he couldn't get hurt. He'd keep his word. But he never said he'd stay in the tent while Spock rested. Jim readied quickly, flushed with anger as he moved silently. He glanced down at the braids on his shirt and stepped out of the tent. He was a starship captain for the greatest exploratory agency in the universe.

Sometimes Jim just had to go his own way.

… .. . .. …

Jim felt when the bond burst to life in the back of his head. He had half a mind to keep running. Spock would find him eventually, but Jim was pretty good at running away. He always had been the punch and run type, in the long run. But Jim decided he liked the little lake and waterfall he had found and he would wait right there for Spock. He'd pretty much flat out run away from the tent when he left.

That probably hadn't been the brightest choice, but Jim didn't really care at this point. He was still too angry.

Which is why he was pointedly concentrating to keep his feelings from the bond. It made him sick to his stomach, but he figured he could keep it up for the hour or so it took Spock to find him. It helped that Jim had a lot of interesting fresh water life to focus on. He'd found three distinct kinds of fish, an algae, deeper down, that glowed whenever anything crashed into it, a wonderful variety of water plants, and one thing that looked a bit like a jelly-fish, but apparently had no poison according to his tricorder.

His little pond was pretty. A large waterfall crashed into it, but it appeared almost motionless. He suspected that was because there was a deep underwater stream, moving very rapidly away. The waterfall was warm, so most of it hung around on the top and the currents got faster and colder the deeper you went. Jim wasn't so stupid as to try and explore something like that on his own, but he got as close as he could and got a few scans on it. It was an impressive thing to find in a jungle, and he suspected the science crew had been so focused on that rock that they didn't even notice the underground river of doom. That made Jim just a little smug.

They didn't get to call him useless if he could prove himself like that. Maybe he'd finally earn their respect.

He was currently in the process of watching some little, pointy-eared monkeys he had scanned earlier. He was making note of the way they were using their barbed tails to pull fruit from a spiky bush. It was pretty awesome. They then chewed on the fruit until it was a disgusting, dry paste, and spit it into the water, where the fish were eating it up. One point for the fish. Nothing like getting someone else to feed you.

A monkey chattered up in front of him, waving a fruit at his face. It was a little weird that they weren't scared of him.

Jim accepted the fruit with an awkward smile, because the monkey wouldn't understand it, and started scanning the fruit. Jim wasn't too sure what the readings were saying, but it was nice to have them anyway.

The monkey just seemed glad that he had taken the fruit, because it didn't stay to watch him eat it. Jim tossed it in the water after a bit, enjoying the spectacle of fish attacking it with gusto. When he rinsed his hands in the water, several fish came over to inspect the juice still on them. He found that one of them, a lacy looking little fish, felt like cold steel on his hands. That was going in his notes, for sure.

A tinge of panic bled through the bond. It had only been thirty minutes, but Spock was worried. Jim sort of felt bad for that, but Spock had pissed him off. It wasn't like Spock couldn't find him just because he was holding his emotions back. He'd feel bad about upsetting him later, but for now Jim was just going to ignore it. He was enjoying getting to explore and actually do science things. Spock would get over it.

Well, that was what he thought right up until he saw Spock.

Spock stepped into the clearing looking visibly haggard. Jim stood and turned to greet him, and had a strong pair of arms wrapped around him. The bond flooded him with relief and panic and a myriad of emotions Jim didn't even know the name for. And there was anger. So much anger that Jim felt sick. So much fear.

"Spock." Jim whispered, awed.

"Do not speak." Spock growled, burying his face in Jim's hair. "I am not yet ready to speak to you."

Actually growled. Like full on vocal sound.

So Jim just stood there, hands hanging limply at his side while Spock convinced himself everything was alright. And without the fear all Jim was getting from the bond was intense anger. Something he could see when Spock pulled back and gave him a positively icy look. Jim felt his own anger raising in response.

"Your behavior was reckless." Spock's voice was a monotone usually reserved for the most angering things he had ever seen.

Jim wrenched himself back before Spock could begin his lecture, glaring fiercely. "I don't know if you remember this, but I'm a god damn Starfleet Captain!I am more than capable of protecting myself and I'm not some incompetent fool bumbling through everything I do! I _know_ I'm not the best captain! You think I don't know that? I _know_ I've screwed up! I know _exactly_ how much I've screwed up! Do you think I can't read you verbatim each letter I sent home when someone on my ship died? Do you think I don't know that everyone hates me for it? Thinks I'm incompetent? I _know_ that I'm not the captain any of you would actually choose, but I'm still your god damn captain!"

Jim was shaking, could feel warmth in his eyes and knew his muscles ached from clenching them so hard. He wanted to run, wanted to fight, didn't want to stand there so blatantly open. Completely open. Their anger was like knives, flaying the bond, making it bleed pain into their minds. Jim could feel it, wanted to stop, but the anger was too much. Too good after so long of playing the competent, mild mannered Captain that never lost his cool.

Spock punched him, hard and Jim stumbled back. Before he had a chance to recover, Spock was standing there, kissing him fiercely. It was strange that the second one should be so much more frightening of an act. Jim kissed him back, biting at his lips because if this was as close as he was getting to a fight, he was pouring all of his anger and frustration out into it. And Spock's hands were digging into his biceps and there were going to be all sorts of bruises. And Jim was yanking at Spock's hair and couldn't imagine it felt all that great.

There was absolutely no lust in the act, no want or desire, no love, just pure desperation. Anger and confusion and hurt. Jim couldn't tell any more, who was feeling what. The bond trembled between them.

Spock pulled himself back, collecting himself as best he could. It wasn't too effective considering he was disheveled and blushing. "It amazes me that you can be so foolish captain."

Jim bristled. "Why the fuck did you just kiss me?"

Spock glanced away. "The bond is impairing my judgment. I am _angry_ Jim. Can you not realize this?"

"Most people keep hitting." Jim spat. "They don't kiss the person that pissed them off like they'd die otherwise."

Spock straightened. "Would you prefer if I hit you again?"

Jim made a strangled screech at the back of his throat and lunged. It hurt like hell, when his mouth crushed into Spock's. He could feel his teeth cutting the inside of his mouth and his jaw ached and he couldn't believe this was happening. What the hell was he doing? He could feel it, though, the way the bond used the contact to heal itself. Even if their movements were driven by anger, were damaging the bond, the contact helped it. Kept it safe.

Jim tried to reign his anger in. He was better than that. Spock was already trying to keep his emotions from the bond, trying to control himself. Jim tried to relax, tried to focus on anything but the seething hatred trying to root itself in his chest.

He felt Spock place his hand on his lower back and amusement bubbled up inside him. He broke the kiss with a laugh, and soon Spock was the only thing holding him up. His knees had given out and he was nearly hysterical. Spock soothed a hand through his hair, waiting.

"Jim." Spock finally murmured when he fell silent. "I fear for your safety because I do care for you. I can not deny this. The entire crew cares for you. We respect you and desire your safety because of this fact. To have you reject us...to have you reject me..."

Jim looked up to see the hurt in those eyes, couldn't ignore it. "That's not the way it feels."

"I am sorry." Spock insisted. "You have never protested before...I did not know..."

Never protested? Oh god. Jim felt like he was going to be sick. He'd hung back on missions, on planets, because he thought his presence was unwanted. He wanted to be the good captain, to keep his distance, so he tried not to push too hard on including himself. He felt a resurgence of hatred, directed at himself. Why couldn't he get things right? Spock probably felt it through the bond, because he started soothing his hands over Jim, like he were unsure how to comfort him, but wanted to do so all the same.

Jim didn't want to be touched just then.

He pulled back, out of Spock's reach. Spock just stood there, watching him. Jim could feel Spock easing the shield back over the bond, could tell he was trying to give him the privacy he so desperately wanted and needed. Jim had to get himself back under control. He felt sick, felt tired and confused and he felt like this bond was shoving his emotions around, distorting them and making Jim act on a kind of instinct he wasn't used to having. It was as much a part of him as it was Spock, though. It should know better, its instincts should know better. Should know that throwing them at each other like that when they were angry would do more damage than good.

"I'm sorry I ran away." Jim muttered, not meeting his eyes. "I was angry, and frustrated, and wrong. We are going to need to work on this whole communication thing. I just...I get angry with you and I don't know how to talk to you. I feel like I barely know you and you have all these expectations of me that I can't meet. You speak to me like you know exactly how I'm going to act when I don't even know and I just get angry and the angrier I get the more adamant you become and I just can't step back from the emotions."

Spock shifted like he was going to reach out, but he kept his hands tightly at his back. "I do not know how to remedy this, Jim. I had believed I knew you quite well, but it is now apparent that I was unaware of several important factors. I have never believed myself capable of predicting your actions, but I had believed myself aware of their reasons. I see now that I was erroneous. It is apparent that I have been negligent in my observations and...friendship...with you Jim. I was not aware of your discontent. As such I have performed inadequately."

"Spock...I..." Jim didn't know what to say. "I want this to _work_. Want us, the crew, everything to just _work_. To be fun and good and successful. I want to be able to feel happy and confident with what I'm doing."

Spock nodded, his voice tight when he spoke. "I will do everything I am capable to give you that peace Jim."

Jim wasn't really sure who moved first, but they met in the middle for a hug that was only slightly awkward in the long run. Jim pressed his forehead to Spock's, mildly glad they were handling this without making out. Spock whispered something, not even really words, but the question was still there. Jim nodded. He could already feel himself relaxing as Spock brought his hand up to his face.

Spock could feel the gross, open wound of the bond. Could feel the flayed surface of Jim's katra, wounded by anger. It made a deep, hallow sadness resound through him. He resolved to understand Jim, so that he would not be the cause of such anger and pain. Though sadness remained, he left the meld feeling better than before.

"Jim."

Jim shook his head, pulling himself out of the hug. "We've got work to do."

… .. . .. …

Jim was going to kill Spock when he got back, if the waiting didn't kill him first. All because he'd agreed, and because he was exhausted after that afternoon's roller-coaster ride, he'd actually stayed behind. He even promised to stay in the tent. But Jim couldn't sleep, because he couldn't get the thought that something bad could happen to Spock out of his head. Karma, probably, for worrying Spock, but frustrating all the same.

He'd given up on sleep and was organizing the information he'd gotten on his tricorder. Spock had been a little surprised and pleased by that. Jim had been a bit smug about that.

It had been two hours. Spock should have been back already. Jim was trying not to let it get to him, because Spock was a big boy and could take care of himself. And Jim could still feel the bond at the back of his head, shielded, but assuring him he was there. Assuming he wasn't hurt or something. But that didn't stop him from feeling incredibly anxious. He figured he'd just stay up a little longer, until he got back, and then get some sleep. That'd probably work fine. It wasn't like he had much to do when they got picked back up in the morning. He could catch up on his sleep on the ship. There was always mandatory downtime after an exploratory mission. He'd get a full day off, CMO's orders. He'd just relax after they got back and he finished his paperwork.

Well, his paperwork was just about finished. He could really cut through it when he was anxious.

When Spock finally stepped into the tent, Jim felt almost angry that he was perfectly fine. Spock seemed genuinely surprised, for a moment, that Jim was still up. He let go of his anger fast, because Spock hadn't been trying to worry him, and gave him a sheepish little smile at the raised eyebrow.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Are you unwell?"

Jim shook his head, putting aside his PADD and going to help Spock with his gear. "No. I was just...thinking too much."

Spock seemed to hesitate, watching Jim remove items from him like it were perfectly normal. "You are distressed."

Jim shrugged. "I'm fine."

"Jim." Spock said sharply. "You are attempting to undress me."

Jim paused, realizing he was in fact removing Spock's shirt. Awkward. He retrieved his hands with a cough. "Ah. Yeah. I was just...helping..."

Spock wasn't buying that, an eyebrow raised and a pointedly flat look on his face. "Jim."

Jim flushed. "I was worried, okay? I couldn't sleep because I was worried."

Jim huffed, turning around when he caught the smile in Spock's eyes. He was embarrassed enough without Spock finding it amusing. Spock wrapped his arms around Jim's waist, pulling him flush against this chest. Jim was acutely aware of just how comfortable Spock was getting with the movement. He was also acutely aware of the fact that he had succeeded in getting Spock's shirt off because Jim still wasn't wearing a shirt. Spock didn't seem to mind, nuzzling Jim's neck.

"I did not intend to cause you alarm."

Jim scowled. "Stop nuzzling me Spock. You aren't a cat."

Spock paused, but kept his face tucked against Jim's neck. "How may I assist you with your emotions Jim?"

And wasn't that the weirdest thing he'd ever heard? "My emotions aren't a problem. I'm going to bed."

Jim didn't pull out of Spock's arms though. He just sort of stood there, fuming a little. Spock released him after a moment and returned to readying himself for bed. Jim made a show of climbing in bed, but he still felt incredibly tense and awkward. Spock had to finish some of his paperwork first, but he had dimmed the lights. Jim still couldn't sleep. It wasn't even anything in particular. Spock's moving around and finishing wasn't even all that bothersome. The temperature wasn't bugging him, not focusing on work, he just couldn't...something. He hated nights like that.

"Jim. Are you unwell?"

"Stop asking me that." Jim growled, refusing to open his eyes and look at his First Officer. "I'm fine."

"You are making noises indicative of discontent or discomfort." Spock didn't argue with him, just explained why he asked.

"I just can't sleep." Jim sighed, rolling over to look at Spock.

Spock was sitting on his bed roll, only half focused on his PADD. Jim pillowed his arm under his head, watching him work. Spock's fingers danced over the PADD almost absently as he watched Jim from the corner of his eye. In the low light, Jim was fairly certain Spock couldn't see him as well as Jim could see Spock. The PADD was providing a helpful glow. Spock's features were dark, half hidden and cast in sharp relief, and the bright glow of the PADD caught the powdered crystal, making for blinding high points on his cheek bones, nose, the sweep of his brow. It looked good, classically handsome.

Spock's lips flicked through the faintest of smirks. "Do you need assistance?"

Jim blushed, and was glad he was mostly in the dark. "And just how exactly would you propose doing that?"

"You seemed adequately capable of sleeping yesterday." Spock paused ever so slightly. "While we were resting from climbing."

"Oh." Jim squeaked. "Uh...I can't imagine you resting too well like that."

"I would rest significantly better if I were assured you could not leave without waking me." Spock glanced up.

"Ha. Ha." Jim threw a sock. "I was being serious."

Spock placed the sock with his clothing bag. "I was not false with my statement. However, to address your concerns, (Jim noticed he said concerns like it were a hypo tying to stab him in the neck) your presence does not affect me adversely."

Jim rolled his eyes, because Spock was winning and he didn't want him to know that. "I don't cuddle Spock. Like, not even after sex."

"As we are not engaging in coitus before hand, I do not see the relevance of that fact."

"I meant if I don't even use the excuse of being too tired after sex to leave to cuddle a little, why would I cuddle for no reason?" Jim was blushing, wishing sincerely that he hadn't brought up his sex habits. Was this supposed to convince Spock he wasn't a slut? Where did that filter over his mouth disappear to?

"I see..." Spock seemed to consider something for a moment, placing his PADD aside. "Would you prefer to engage in coitus to 'use the excuse' for 'cuddling'?"

Jim's jaw dropped, mostly because it was hilarious to hear Spock using air quotes and the word cuddling. "What would you do if I ever took you up on your teasing?"

Spock raised an eyebrow slowly. "I may not be familiar with all of your habits, Jim, but I have 'teased' you enough on these matters to accurately predict your response 76.34 percent of the time."

"That's a low number." Jim snorted.

It was. Jim wondered what he'd done that was so surprising as to knock it down that far. Spock finished tidying up his area and Jim's eyes started adjusting to the dark. He hated to admit it, but he could tell Spock was looking at him and he was sure it was an expectant look. He sighed, throwing his head back with a groan.

"Okay. But if you can't fall asleep, just tell me. Don't try to suck it up." Jim shook his head incredulously. "I can't believe you talked me into trying this."

"It was not a considerable effort." Spock informed him, suddenly much closer.

Jim grumbled, mostly to hide his nervousness. "So...uh...how...?"

Spock shifted so he was laying next to Jim, who belatedly noticed that he had brought his bed roll. "You may move to find a comfortable position."

"Because I needed your permission for that."

And yet he still hesitated to touch his first officer. Jim awkwardly shifted because he just couldn't work up the nerve to throw his arm over him, or place his head on his shoulder or something. Wasn't that how cuddling normally went? Jim sighed and flopped back, deciding cuddling was entirely to awkward and girly. Spock apparently didn't agree, because he had no qualms about dragging Jim over and throwing a loose arm across his chest. Jim was really beginning to wonder if maybe Spock wasn't an inherently tactile person who pushed it down because it was improper. That probably sucked.

"Are you comfortable?" Jim teased when Spock proceeded to nuzzle him a little.

Spock puffed out what Jim was going to assume was an annoyed breath against his neck. "I am not experiencing discomfort, so by that definition, yes."

Jim shook his head, but tried to relax anyway. It was less awkward, somehow, when Spock directed their interactions. Jim wasn't _touching_ him, he was being touched. Therefor it was on Spock's terms so Jim couldn't feel like he was being invasive. That was probably, on closer inspection, his problem with approaching most of the crew. It was easier to let them approach him, because then all non-work interactions were on their terms, so they shouldn't be too uncomfortable.

"Sleep." Spock ordered.

Jim realized he had be tapping on Spock's arm, thinking. He drew himself back, awkwardly tucking a hand under his head so he wasn't touching Spock with it. That whole thinking instead of sleeping thing was going to be a continuous problem. Spock shifted, pressing his temple to Jim's. He could feel the faintest hint of Spock's mind. It was probably weird. It was like white noise though, just enough of a 'sound' in his head to drown out his own thoughts, to interrupt his long winding ramblings. It felt good, to be able to just relax and let someone else direct it. Spock's mind was such a warm and comforting place that fit. Jim felt safe, letting him have control. It was his last real thought, before he drifted off to sleep.

… .. . .. …

Jim woke up feeling fantastic. His first thought was wondering how much he had had to drink, because his head was still buzzing. He remembered, rather quickly, that he was on a mission. And that Spock was with him. From his position sprawled on his stomach, Jim could feel Spock's chest pressed to his arm and his head resting on Jim's shoulder blade. Jim was going to blame the comfortable feeling in his head for missing that. Not that it had taken long to situate himself.

He must have somehow alerted Spock to the fact he was awake, because it didn't take him much longer to wake up himself. He leaned back, but his arm was still flung over Jim's waist. Jim rolled back a bit, stretching and yawning. Spock shifted, resting his head on Jim's shoulder, pressing their temples together sleepily. The pleasant buzzing redoubled and Jim didn't bother fighting down a sleepy grin. Spock was tracing intricate, vague patterns along Jim's abdomen, just a touch away from tickling.

"Spock." Jim murmured, getting a slight hum of acknowledgment. "I can't read Vulcan."

"How is this relevant?" Spock sounded surprisingly sleepy.

Jim grinned. "What are you writing on my stomach?"

Spock froze, his fingers going completely still. After a second Spock disentangled himself. Jim glanced back in surprise, and saw Spock starting his morning routine. He frowned immediately, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he wondered what he'd done wrong. It occurred to him that maybe Spock hadn't realized he'd been doing it.

Jim got up, not looking at Spock. They needed to break down camp before Sulu got back. They had about three hours, by his PADDs time, until the scheduled pick up. Plenty of time to get everything cleaned up. So he did just that. He set about breaking everything down, conveniently forgetting to eat his protein nibs. He wasn't hungry, anyway. He noticed that Spock hadn't bothered eating either. He wondered if Spock noticed that he hadn't eaten.

Spock still hadn't spoken to him by the time their communicators alerted him to the fact Sulu was thirty minutes out.

Jim tried not to let it annoy him. He didn't need constant reassurances and contact. He didn't even _like_ constant conversation. He'd had plenty of comfortable silences with Spock before anyway. At least, he'd thought he did. So why was this silence so different? Not uncomfortable, but not personable still. It wasn't a shared silence. It was a separating silence. If Spock needed the silence as a wall, then Jim wouldn't take that from him.

Sulu was mildly off put by the silence when they beamed back on the transport. Jim greeted him with a smile, but he focused more on putting up their gear, to be reorganized by personnel when they got back to the ship. Spock was staring down his PADD, still silent. As they neared the Enterprise, though, he rather suddenly stopped what he was doing and went to Sulu's side, as though he were looking at something on the ship computer. Sulu looked significantly more at ease when Spock started acknowledging him.

"Enterprise come in." Sulu called over the comm. "Enterprise? Captain, I'm not getting a response."

Jim frowned, coming to lean over the pilot's shoulder. "Is it our communications?"

"I do not believe so, Captain." Spock was inspecting it closely. "It appears they are receiving our transmission, but they are not responding."

Jim felt his heart beat harder, though it didn't seem to speed up to him. "It's possible they're having difficulties. It wouldn't be the first time. Sulu, what is the status on the docking bay?"

"The doors are open Captain." Sulu flicked through some controls. "There's no one responding. There aren't any signals. I'm going in slow Captain. I should be able to shut the doors from here, if everything is receiving properly."

Jim nodded, retrieving the phaser he had set aside and handing Spock his own. "I don't know what we're getting into, but keep your eyes open."

Sulu set the transport ship down in the hanger, the only one currently out. Everyone was on board. The doors started easing shut and Jim gave Sulu a tight smile, patting his shoulder.

"Good work."

"Um...I didn't do it, Captain." Sulu furrowed his brow, unbuckling himself and moving to check something else on the ship. "Someone outside is shutting the doors. There must be someone in the control room. I don't know why they didn't answer though."

Jim tensed, his eyes flinching narrower as he glanced towards the control room. He drew his phaser up, on stun and nodded to the others to be ready. He could feel Spock at his elbow when he turned back to the exit of the transport. He wasn't sure what they were walking into, but he was confident that they could handle it. His crew was bright, resourceful, and determined. He glanced back at Sulu when he heard the alarm for the open doors finally fell silent, letting them know it was safe to enter. He caught a momentary look on his face, that seemed strange, but it was gone before he could identify the look. Sulu nodded and reached for the transport release.

Jim eased out into the empty dock. It was creepy. He heard a set of doors to his right open and spun to the side, phaser following naturally. McCoy raised his hands immediately, eyes wide.

"Damn it Jim! Put that thing down." McCoy hissed. "You're going to give me a heart attack."

Jim lowered his phaser, but didn't put it away. "What's happening?"

McCoy looked distraught, face tight. "That's what I'm trying to figure out. I've got them quarantined in the canteen. You've been planet side. I need you there too."

Jim tucked his phaser away, glancing back to see Spock and Sulu had already done so. "Quarantined why? Why aren't they in the Sickbay? And why all of them?"

"Because it spread fast." McCoy scowled, wiping at his forehead. "Everyone else is confined to skeleton crew, no wandering, nothing. I can't explain it."

"Doctor...are you affected as well?" Spock asked, his tone grim.

Bones smirked. "Yeah. I am."

"Bones..." Jim placed a hand on his shoulder, and was shrugged off.

Sulu shook his head. "When did the quarantine start?"

"A few minutes after you left. The last of the others came up. That's when we started noticing it."

Jim felt nervous, running through the empty halls of his ship. It was eery. The Enterprise should be bustling with life, teeming with people flowing through the halls like blood.

Bones and Sulu were at the front together, but Jim barely noticed. His heart was beating hard, thundering in his ears and every vein in his body felt like it was surging with anticipation. Whatever he was walking into, Jim was prepared. They were almost to the cafeteria, now, and he felt like he was vibrating with energy. Spock was tense at his side, but a reassuring presence all the same. Bones flashed them a strange look before issuing his medical override on the doors. The four of them stepped into chaos.

"Surprise!" A couple hundred voices screamed at once.

Jim nearly jumped out of his skin as he was bombarded with bright lights and streamers and balloons. He felt like his heart stopped. The beaming faces of his crew and the sudden cheer was such a stark contrast to the immense worry he had been feeling. Jim turned on his heel and exited the room. Spock raised a hand to halt the crew at their crestfallen looks, turning to follow Jim back into the hall. McCoy and Sulu were the only ones in a position to seem them from where Jim had walked to.

Jim turned when Spock set his hand on his shoulder and buried his face in his shirt. He didn't want him to see him crying, though he could probably tell from the wet spot he was going to leave on his shirt. That and the fact that the shield on the bond was complete crap when it came to Jim's emotions apparently. Jim couldn't help it, but he was practically sobbing in Spock's arms. He felt like he could throw up from relief. The knowledge that his crew was safe, that they were all alright, it was almost too much for him. Spock rubbed his hand gently in a circle on Jim's lower back, something almost instinctual in the way he handled him.

He took a few shuddering breaths, trying to calm himself. After a few minutes of hiccuping and sobbing, Jim pulled himself back, wiping his eyes. Spock withdrew his hand immediately. Jim figured it had something to do with the fact that they were on the ship. Jim was more than a little embarrassed. He also realized that his crew was probably standing in there, thinking he'd stormed out pissed. Now that the worry and relief had disappeared, it wasn't an entirely inaccurate assesment. Jim fixed an annoyed, wry look on his face as he walked back into cafeteria. No one commented on how red his eyes were. He was so focused on the people in front of him that he missed the look Sulu and McCoy were sharing behind his back. Spock broke that look up by walking between them, eyebrow raised at their antics.

"Are you out of your minds?" Jim shouted, only a hint of anger in his voice. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! And faking an emergency...If I weren't so relieved I'd have you all scrubbing the ship down with your toothbrushes." Jim sighed, shaking his head and smirking when everyone looked upset. "That said, you got me good. What are you even doing?"

"Throwing a party for you." Uhura appeared out of nowhere, immediately taking responsibility. "This was the least I could get them to do. Literally."

Jim had to smile, because somehow that was so amazing of his crew. "Okay. What what are we doing just standing here? Go! Party. That's an order."

That was met with another cheer. Sulu clapped a hand on his shoulder and the Jim was being surrounded by crew members cheering and pushing him along. He just went with the flow, letting them direct him to cake and punch and people. Spock hung back by the door, watching the crew curiously even as McCoy and Uhura leaned on the wall next to him.

"You knew." Uhura accused. "I could see it on your face."

"I had come to expect some manner of ruse when Doctor McCoy apparently operated the bay door on his own. This suspicion was confirmed when Lieutenant Sulu and the Doctor exchanged a smile while looking at the Captain." Spock raised an eyebrow when McCoy sputtered at the accusation he couldn't operate a bay door.

"And yet you didn't tell him." McCoy pointed out sharply.

"There was no opportunity to do so. Nor did I deem it to be felicitous." Spock looked over at Jim, eyes softening perceptibly. "An error, perhaps."

"Is he okay?" Uhura asked. "He looked...pale when he ran out of the room."

"I can not attest to the Captain's physical state." Spock glanced pointedly at McCoy. "He has recovered aptly from the shock the crew has caused him. It is my understanding that this was the desired outcome?"

Uhura gave a half grimacing smile. "Well, not exactly, but he looks like he's enjoying himself now."

McCoy shrugged, his eyebrows copying the movement. "Maybe. He's just sort of smiling and nodding."

… .. . .. …

Jim was more than a little exhausted and grateful when Bones declared it time to take the Captain for his check up. He'd put it off long enough to humor the crew and now Jim was going to go sit around sickbay. It was saying a lot when Jim was grateful for a trip to sickbay. He'd spent the last half hour just talking though, with a significant number of his science crew sitting on the floor or at tables to listen to him. The floor was actually considered a more optimal position. The cause of that was the fact that Jim had accidentally mentioned the lake. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know everything he could tell them about it.

Jim elbowed Spock when they fell into step, headed down to sickbay. "Where did you disappear to?"

Spock kept his hands at his back. "I was engaged in conversation with Nyota."

Jim glanced over to see his communications officer had followed them out. She waggled her fingers at him, smiling deviously. Bones looked grumpy, but not any more so than usual. Jim nodded happily to her.

"I'm going to assume you set all that up?" Jim smirked when she nodded. "Good to see you found some way to keep yourself busy while the rest of us were doing work."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I heard. I guess you weren't just a distraction down there."

Jim grinned. "Well, not _just_."

She laughed, a musical thing. Jim liked that he could make her laugh, considering the laugh he remembered best was a derisive thing from his school days. Jim's smile dimmed a little, because he'd managed to just make himself a bit sad. He was pretty sure it went unnoticed. McCoy was grumbling about not wanting to know what trouble he'd gotten himself into as long as it didn't have a medical relevance. Uhura followed them into the sickbay, earning a look from Jim.

"Whatever happened to doctor patient privilege on this ship?"

"Do you want me to leave?" She raised an eyebrow.

Jim snorted. "Whatever. It's not like it matters. Does it bother you, Spock?"

"I am not adverse to Nyota's presence."

"Did anything interesting happen down there?" McCoy interrupted. "Drink any strange water? Get bit by a spider?"

"There are spiders?" Jim shuddered. "Ew. Who found that out?"

"Rodgers got hit in the face with one while it was raining." Uhura informed him with amusement.

"Bleh." Jim started removing his shirts, prepping for his exam. "That is not something I would trade him for. He can keep the spiders. I'll stick to the barb-tailed monkeys."

"Jim." McCoy was not amused. "Answer my question."

"Nothing really happened." Jim shrugged. "Uneventful."

"The Captain was temporarily blinded by an animal using bio-luminescence." Spock informed him curtly, folding his own shirts.

"Oh come on." Jim glared at him. "That wasn't it. It flashed a bright light, temporarily screwed my night vision. It was nothing. It took a couple minutes to clear up."

"34.58 minutes, Captain." Spock noted primly.

McCoy went for the eyes and Jim would have glared some more if there weren't fingers and electronics impeding that. "I don't like you anymore Spock. I'm getting a new boyfriend. Uhura? Want to be my boyfriend?"

Uhura burst out laughing, catching Spock's arm to keep from collapsing as she clutched her stomach. "I think there may be some problems with that Captain."

"You are not to date the Lieutenant." Spock just about growled, and Jim smirked.

"Don't tell me you're jealous."

"I am not."

"Mm-hm." Jim swatted Bones' hands away from his face. "Well, I guess I can keep you for a while them. But just because Uhura isn't interested."

Spock's eyebrow twitched dangerously. "Affirmative."

"Is there anything _else_?" McCoy interrupted. "For either of you."

"I received minor abrasions during a night expedition." Spock informed him. "I properly cleaned and dressed them."

Jim stood up from the exam bed, ignoring Bones' protesting sounds. "What? Why didn't you tell me? When did this happen? Is that why it took you longer to get back than it should have? Damn it Spock. This is why I should have been with you."

Spock raised his eyebrow, waiting patiently for Jim to stop rambling to answer his questions. "I received abrasions on my lower abdomen while examining a life form resting on a tree. I did not inform you, because it was unimportant and you did not ask. It occurred approximately half way through my explorations. I do not know when you expected me to return, so I can not attest to any such delay."

Jim rolled his eyes, allowing McCoy to put him back into a seated position. "How did I not notice that last night?"

"I believe you were distracted." Spock's eyes were smirking, his head cocked to the side in mock deference.

Jim scowled, before his eyes lit up as he realized Spock had just given him the perfect opening. Payback would be his. He smirked, settling back and resting his hands behind his head, aware from the slight glance from Uhura that the muscles of his stomach had just rippled interestingly. No one was immune to his charms completely. Spock kept his eyes on his face, so Jim winked instead.

"Before or after we slept together?"

McCoy swore, dropping his tricorder and flailing. "God damn it Jim! If you're going to lie to get payback at least wait to do it until I'm not holding expensive equipment."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Jim is not lying."

McCoy rounded on him with a look of abject horror. Uhura was looking between them wide eyed. Jim grinned. He could really honestly learn to love that guy. As a friend. Obviously. Jim leaned forward, grinning right next to Bone's ear.

"Twice. Ow!" Jim rocked back, cradling his nose which McCoy had just elbowed in his flailing. "Bones!"

"Serves you right." Uhura hissed, still staring at Spock, the gears in her head working. "Something isn't adding up here."

"You mean the fact that these two are trying to convince us they slept together?" McCoy growled, eying Jim. "I think you need a psych profile."

"I do not." Jim wheezed through what he was going to assume was a broken nose. "That hurt."

"So you want me to believe that you and the hobgoblin...ugh." McCoy shuddered. "Nope. Not buying it. Not for a minute. Weren't you the one protesting your straightness? I don't know how you convinced Spock to lie for you but I swear I will lock both of you in here until you die of boredom and then I'll bring you back and kill you. If you even-"

"Leonard." Uhura broke through his tirade, arms folded over her chest, hip cocked and eyebrow raised. "I think he's being literal."

McCoy glanced between them eyes narrowed, before a dark smile split his face. "So you _cuddled_?"

Jim blushed. "How did you turn this against me?"

"Natural talent." McCoy yanked his hand down to start inspecting his nose. "I hate you."

Jim shrugged. "Natural talent. Did you break my nose?"

"No, but it'll bleed a little. Live with the pain." McCoy rounded on Spock. "On a bed. You're next."

Spock inclined his head, raising an eyebrow. "I had presumed as much. You are quite inefficient."

Jim glanced down at the edge of the bandaging peeking out of Spock's pants along his hip bone and stomach. He couldn't stop the frown at the sight. He couldn't believe he'd missed that. He was so busy freaking out about being worried that he'd completely missed the fact that Spock was hurt. Jim felt incredibly guilty, and looked away before he felt the bile churning in his stomach climb any hire in his throat. He caught a sympathetic smile on Uhura's face and stood up, still pinching his nose.

"I'm going to go get cleaned up." Jim murmured, to an off handed nod by Bones.

Uhura followed him over to the counter. "You okay Captain?"

Jim smiled as he wiped some towels across his face. "I'm alright. Did you like what you saw back there?"

She rolled her eyes, smiling a little. "Not as much as Spock apparently. And really? That was a little messed up."

Jim glanced up at her, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Including Spock in your sexual innuendo." Uhura snorted, unamused. "And calling me a guy."

"Whoa." Jim frowned, leaning back on the counter. "I'm including _him_ in _my_ sexual innuendo? He started it. And not just with the boyfriend thing. He's been making sex jokes with Bones about me for a while. And I didn't call you a guy. I was joking about the boyfriend thing."

She cocked her hip to the side, glancing over at where Spock and McCoy were talking. "I don't believe you. And why not ask me to be your girlfriend then?"

"Of course." He threw up a free hand, scowling. "He's just a damn boy scout to everyone. Didn't you _date_ him?"

Uhura glanced away awkwardly. "He never joked like that with me. He never _spoke_ to me about anything like that."

Jim gulped awkwardly, and grimaced as slimy blood slid down the back of his throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up something awkward. UH...Wow. How did you handle...uh..._all_ of that? I mean...he's hard to get down to."

She laughed softly, sadly. "Obviously I didn't handle it Captain."

He coughed, trying to ignore the fact that his bloody nose was getting in the way of trying to be a good friend. "I think now would be a good time to casually divert the topic...what would you have said if I asked you to be my girlfriend?"

She rolled her eyes, but it brought a smile to her face all the same. "I don't think the crew would approve Kirk."

Jim shrugged, affecting a casual look as he inspected his much drier nose. "Ah. That would be a problem. I'd hate to blemish your reputation. The wonderful queen of communication and the awful playboy..."

"More like the gullible, innocent Captain and the home-wrecker that stole him from the king of the science department." Uhura smirked at the surprised look on his face. "They like you. I thought that would be clear by now. Also, they like Spock. They've always liked Spock. It's no surprise, that they genuinely love you two and want you to be happy. It's also no surprise that they were so damn happy about you two getting together. It's like seeing your two favorite characters in a book get together. They _idolize_ you two and the only thing better to most of them then getting to be with you is seeing both of you together. Or didn't you notice how creepy some of the crew is about you?"

"I noticed." Jim said dryly. "Still...it seems like a lot. And weird. It seems weird."

She slapped his shoulder. "Clean your face up Kirk. You look like you've been in a fight."

McCoy and Spock had finished both their conversation and the physical. They were waiting patiently, watching from a polite distance. Jim turned back to finish cleaning his face off and Uhura walked back over to the group. She gave Spock a polite nod and gave McCoy a pointed look. McCoy proceeded to order everyone out of his sickbay and followed Uhura out the doors. Spock stepped out as well and Jim caught the lights as he headed into the hall.

"Well." Uhura rolled her shoulders, smiling. "I'm pretty sure there's a party I'm missing right now. Leonard?"

Bones rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Just one last thing. You bone heads are off duty until tomorrow. I don't want to hear any complaints. You can go back to the party if you want. You can join Scotty and his group. They said they were leaving when we did. I think they're planning on a poker game. I'd prefer if you would just relax. Don't make me hypo you."

"Yes Bones." Jim agreed, before smiling warmly. "And thanks. For everything."

He walked off before he could see the confused look on his best friend's face. Spock walked with Jim to a different turbolift than the direction Uhura and Bones were headed. Jim figured rest sounded like a good idea, actually. Even if he had gotten an alright night's sleep, he felt exhausted suddenly. Collapsing in bed and sleeping until his next shift sounded like the perfect way to remedy that. Spock was standing close to his shoulder and it was just making Jim feel sleepier. He sincerely hoped it was an exhaustion thing and not some sort of Pavlovian response to his First Officer. It wouldn't do for a Captain to get sleepy every time his XO came to stand next to him.

"Going to relax or are you going to try to find some way to do more work?" Jim elbowed him gently.

Spock glanced down at him, a scrutinizing look in his eyes. "I will follow Doctor McCoy's orders."

Jim smirked. "That wasn't an answer." He stepped off the lift, heading towards his door.

"Jim." Spock called for his attention before he could enter his room. "I...have a private query for you."

He blinked, surprised, before gesturing for Spock to enter his room. "Sure thing."

Spock stood awkwardly by the couch. Jim was remotely grateful that Rand had found time to clean the room because Jim knew he left it in disorder more than was probably fair to her. He resolved to try to be a bit neater, but put it aside. Right then, Spock was looking particularly stiff. Jim flopped down on the couch, looking up at Spock inquisitively. He patted the couch, but somewhat predictably, Spock didn't take a seat.

"How did you identify the script I was writing as Vulcan?"

That wasn't the question he was expecting, not that he really knew what to expect. "So you were writing something?"

"Not consciously." Spock said quick enough for it to almost qualify as a snap. "You did not answer my question."

Jim shrugged, edging the conversation carefully because Spock was clearly bothered by the idea that he was tracing words on his skin. "I was the Treasurer for the Xenolinguistics club at the Academy. I'd seen more than a few people trying to figure it out to recognize how it's written. Besides, you get pretty used to identifying a type of writing by sight, even if you can't read it. It's a pretty useful trick."

"I see." Spock seemed...not disappointed, but not pleased with that answer.

"So...do you know what you were writing even?"

Spock stiffened. "I do not."

Jim's console beeped before he could call him on that. He headed over, asking the communications personnel contacting him what they needed. The answer was, apparently, for your mother to stop calling the ship. Jim groaned, telling him to wait and glancing over at Spock. At the raised eyebrow he received, Jim gave a sheepish grin and laughed.

"Want to meet my mom?"

Spock inclined his head. "That would be acceptable."

Yeah. Jim was willing to bet it would. He'd find some other time to lull Spock into a false security and get him to talk. Maybe he could try puppy dog eyes and a little cologne. He cut that short because he wasn't trying to seduce his friend, just get him to admit to what he was writing on his stomach. And then he wondered why that would even qualify as seducing because there was no way Jim could seduce Spock even if he wanted to and was trying. Jim derailed his train of thought, because it wasn't leading anywhere good and pulled up his mothers call.

"Hey mom."

She beamed at him. "Hey Jimmy. Gotten laid yet?"

Jim groaned, gesturing for Spock to come over in view of the screen. "Mom. Meet Spock. Spock, this is my mother, Winona Kirk."

Winona blushed furiously, eyes going wide at the double eyebrow raise Spock was giving her. "Uh...Hi."

He inclined his head politely. "Hello. It is gratifying to be permitted to make your association."

She glanced at Jim, thoroughly impressed, before smiling winningly at Spock. "The pleasure is all mine. I'll admit, I didn't know what to expect. Jim's kept pretty quiet about you."

Jim rolled his eyes. "You just haven't been asking the right questions."

Winona waved him off, charming smile still in place. "So Spock, tell me about yourself."

"Please specify what you wish to know." Spock replied curtly.

Jim smirked and watched as Winona tried to be tactful but nosy and Spock managed to completely deflect all of her attempts. He just sat back to enjoy the show. Spock was still being accurate with her, answering her questions technically correct, or informing her that she was being vague. Jim felt a lot better, knowing Spock could more than keep up with his mother. He'd been a bit afraid Spock was going to have the same problem Jim did with Sarek. He knew he shouldn't have doubted him.

"Aww." Winona's coos brought his attention back with a screech.

Spock was giving her an equally baffled look, so Jim felt justified in his confusion. "What the heck was that?"

She gave him a sly smirk. "Don't think I didn't see you making eyes at him."

Jim flushed, and proceeded to flush some more when Spock's eyebrow asked just what he thought he was doing. "I was not. Don't be ridiculous."

She nodded sagely. "Mm-hm. Sure. You can't fool me Jimmy. I know that look. I had it on my face for damn near ten years."

Jim's face went slack and he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. The thought of his mother thinking about his and Spock's relationship like her own with his father left a bad taste in his mouth. He stood, heading off towards his bed, because he couldn't look her in the eyes and keep lying. Had he really asked Spock to be capable of this? Of lying to his father? Jim briefly heard Spock telling his mother to live long and prosper. Then he was in Jim's bedroom, just watching him.

"I'm fine." Jim snapped. "So don't ask."

"I was not going to, Jim." Spock hesitated, before he spoke again. "I understand your difficulty. My father expressed that he believed my mother would approve of my choice in you. I do not regret lying to protect you, though it has proven difficult. I apologize if your efforts were not equally rewarded."

Jim blinked in surprise, and shook his head, pushing himself up from the wall and moving to throw his arms around Spock's neck. "Spock, I'm not going to regret what I did. You're my friend and you matter to me, more than I had ever realized before. And you're a better friend than I deserve, but as long as you're happy, I'll stand by what I did."

"I am." Spock leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together and wrapping his arms up Jim's back, gripping at the back of his neck.

Jim breathed out a sigh, hands skimming down to hold tightly to Spock's waist as he leaned back against the wall. Spock shifted, tracing a line from Jim's temple down to his jaw with his nose, moved to his pulse point as Jim tossed back his head carelessly. He could feel Spock's heart under his hand, a steady flutter, and gently danced along the strongest pulse point, tracing down until it thundered under his fingers against Spock's hip bone. Jim could feel the edge of the gauze under his thumb. Spock tilted his head, keeping his nose pressed gently to Jim's throat as he pressed his lips to his Adam's apple. Jim let his other hand skim up, counting the ribs there absently.

They were interrupted by a loud beeping and Jim sighed, disentangling himself and fishing out his communicator. "Kirk here."

"Aye Cap'n. Me boys were * hic * wondering if ye would be a joinin' us for a wee game. The daft little laddie, Pavel, he thinks it was invented in Russia." Scotty drawled in a happy drunken brogue. "That's a right scunner. Ach, but it makes me drouthy. It's a sair fetched not to go peely-wally when he causes such a right stooshie. The idea's a bit squint if ye no ken what ah mean. Too late to just caw canny now. He's gaun his dinger ower it. Let the bairns fend for thairsels. Ah! I'm havering. Can ye have on then? We'd love ye down for a game or two. May be tha' it's a fiddler's biddin, we'd like ye still. And mony wirds, muckle drouth."

Jim blinked, having been lost at Chekov's name and finally given up at that utter nonsense of a last sentence. "Just how much have you had to drink?"

"A'm sae fou as a piper."

"I'm going to assume that's a lot." Jim sighed, rubbing at his face. "Where did you get the alcohol?"

"The bonnie Mr. Spock set a still in the labs for 'research'." That was perhaps his most coherent sentence yet.

Jim glanced at Spock and smirked. "Oh really? That's interesting. I guess I should head down to at least keep you guys out of trouble."

"And for a drop yurself?"

"No. I learned my lesson on drinking. Thanks." Jim shook his head and closed his communicator. "I should probably go before someone gives themselves alcohol poisoning."

"Good night Jim." Spock nodded and started for the door.

Jim followed part way, because he had to head out to get to engineering anyway. "Sleep tight Spock."

Spock glanced back, eyebrow raised, before nodding and heading off to his room. Jim shook his head, trotting to the nearest turbolift to go deal with his crew. As he was, a thought caught up with him, punched him in his nearly broken nose, and ran off with his breath.

What the hell had he meant, when he told Spock he wanted 'us' to work? What the hell was 'us'?

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**His crew aren't always well behaved. Also, that would be one ugly little rat thing. I had a bit too much fun with Scotty's drunken ramblings...I suppose I should provide translations for that. So have a rough estimate of his meaning.**

_**Yes Captain. Me and my boys were wondering if you'd join us for a little game. The silly kid, Pavel, thinks it was invented in Russia. That's extremely off-putting. Oh, but it makes me thirsty. It's a real struggle not to go off-color(pale or sick) when he causes a big fuss. The idea is awry(screwy) if you know what I mean. Too late to go easy now. He's upset over it. Let the kids fend for themselves. Ah! I'm talking nonsense. Can you come? We'd love to have you down for a game or two. It may be a last-minute invitation, but we'd like you to come. All this talking is making me thirsty.**_

**So there you have it. It's almost a coherent ramble even. Oh, wait.**

**A'm sae fou as a piper. - **_**I'm as drunk as a piper. (very drunk)**_


	8. Chapter 8

**I don't own Star Trek.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

Jim sauntered through the cafeteria, smiling and waving as he greeted his crew. He felt awesome. Significantly better, he was willing to bet, than Scotty was feeling. He spotted Bones eating with Uhura and Spock and jogged over. Best let the doctor know quickly that his hypos were going to be needed. Then food. McCoy sighed, a look of exasperation on his face as he saw Jim coming over. That was hardly fair.

Jim flung himself against Spock's back. "Morning guys. Bones, Scotty went overboard last night drinking. You might want to hypo him and check his liver."

Spock was extremely stiff, not moving. "Captain."

"Not on shift yet." Jim reminded, reaching down and stealing a peace of fruit from his plate. "Sorry about just cutting out like that last night. Turns out it really was a good idea for me to go down there. Apparently our eighteen year old navigator can't hold his liquor."

"It is of no consequence. Please remove yourself from my person." Spock responded sharply.

Sharp enough that Jim felt a stabbing pain as his heart missed a beat. "Spock?"

"Captain." Spock twisted his shoulders, extricating himself from Jim's arms easily.

It _hurt_. "What the fuck?"

Spock turned slowly to look at him, eyebrow raised. "Captain?"

Jim trembled, breath momentarily shaking as something shifted in him. "Oh, so it's okay if _she_ touches you in public and _kisses_ you but me touching your shoulder is too much?"

Uhura straightened in alarm when Jim gestured to her. His voice was dangerous and cold and for a second she felt like she was in danger. But it wasn't her that his anger was directed at. She felt McCoy's hand on her wrist. He was tense, looking like he wanted to stand. From the corner of her eye, Uhura could see Sulu standing, utter confusion on his face. Jim wasn't being quiet.

"I will not discuss this with you in public." Spock uttered flatly.

"In public or at all?" Jim snarled. "I'll see you on the bridge."

Jim turned on his heel, and everyone in the surrounding area flinched back. He stormed out the door, boiling over with anger. The cafeteria was utterly silent. Spock was staring silently at the doors, face impassive. He turned back to his food though, and that only seemed to make the tension in the room rise. He wasn't going after Jim.

Uhura let out a shaky breath, glanced at Sulu and then McCoy. That...that was terrifying. She had to quell her initial instincts, though, because they were screaming for her to do something, for her to make things right. Not just hers, but McCoy and Sulu's as well. They wanted, almost immediately, to fix the rift they just watched tear open between their friends, but then logic came in. Jim and Spock _weren't_ in a relationship. There was nothing to fix. Maybe they had forgotten themselves, that there was nothing there. They'd gotten so used to the idea, to acting like it were the truth, that they just accepted it as fact. This was just Jim, starting the progress to set things right, setting seeds of discord so people would understand, believe that it was over. They couldn't fix that, because that was what they were supposed to be helping him do. To end it.

Uhura's stomach hurt.

… .. . .. …

Jim wasn't really sure why he was angry. He caught a quick breakfast, on his way to the bridge, trying to sort it out. He knew Spock didn't do public displays, and he wasn't sure why he brought Uhura up at all. He had just...reacted, somehow. It had shaken him, being so mad at Spock for no reason.

He made his way to the bridge, still thinking it over. Spock didn't greet him when he went to his station. He could feel Uhura's eyes on his back. He knew he needed to apologize to her for his outburst. It wasn't right to drag her into...whatever was going on with him. He turned to her and made to stand, an apologetic look on his face and she shook her head, waving him down. She already knew. It didn't make what he'd done right, but it was good to know she had already forgiven him for it.

"Alright." Jim announced, standing to catch everyone's attention. "Minor milk run. We've got to visit a research outpost that needs their annual Starfleet prostate exam. Let's get out of here Sulu."

There were some laughs at his joke. Jim beamed at his crew, until his eyes fell on Spock's shoulders. He hadn't even bothered to turn and look at Jim. He shoved down the immediate annoyance, going back to his seat. Rather than dwell on it, Jim turned his immediate attention to his messages. Much of the usual, and a message from his brother. Upon inspection, he found it had the usual pleasantries. Jim glanced over at Spock and snorted angrily. If Sam wanted to play brother, then fine. Jim needed to rant and he didn't really care what Sam thought of him, in the long run.

..

_Hey Sam,_

_You want to know how things are going? Horribly. I don't know what I'm doing. Fuck. One minute he's...I don't know, being nice? He was acting like he wanted to be near me and I guess I thought...I guess I thought maybe we were getting closer to each other. But then..._

_Maybe I'm out of my mind. Nothing's changed. I'm just...clingy all of a sudden. I don't want to start asking for more from him, I don't even know what the heck more is, but all of a sudden, I'm getting agitated and feel like it isn't enough. I guess? It's hard to explain. It's like, suddenly I'm expecting shit. I'm not that guy. I don't want to be that guy._

_I don't think I can do this._

_Kirk out._

..

Jim sent the message with some hesitation. It didn't say near enough, and yet it felt like too much. He didn't even know what he was expecting, hoping, to get back. Pity? Admonishment? Some kind of advice about what to do next? What could Sam possible do but offer empty words hoping things turned out all right? The most that was going to happen was an awkward call from his mother in a few days trying to help because Sam couldn't keep his mouth shut. Never could when it came to Jim.

He was still sifting through paperwork when lunch rolled around. Jim dismissed the crew absently, waiting for their replacements before he got up. He felt someone at his shoulder and glanced up to see Spock leaving the bridge, his hands tight fists at his back. Jim nodded to the replacement crew and jogged up to Sulu. It was important to hang out with the rest of his command crew, especially if he wanted to figure out this whole 'friend' thing he was going into. He'd been neglecting him, and Chekov. Everything else aside, they believed they were his friends, and Jim was willing to make that a reality, if they still wanted it.

No contact with Spock. That was fine by him.

Jim wasn't expecting to run into Spock at the end of their shift. Not literally anyway. Spock stepped back, so Jim had a bit harder of a time catching his balance. Several people were trying to watch. Jim just wanted to leave, so he glared up at Spock, arms folded across his chest. Jim wasn't going to budge first.

"Are you prepared for your lesson?"

Jim twitched. Damn. He'd forgotten all about that. He could get out of it. Spock wouldn't push him if he said he wasn't going to fight him. That wasn't gong to fix things. Not in the slightest. Besides, Spock was doing it as a favor to him. Jim took a deep calming breath, considered his options. From a diplomatic position, there wasn't much he could do, at this point, but see where Spock was going to go next. Spock's move was ambiguous. Jim could react, or he could bide his time and see where Spock was going with it. He ran the risk of making it worse if he reacted wrong. He also could put himself in a strategically poor position if he just let Spock direct their interactions. It was just too ambiguous though, and Jim wasn't willing to gamble on _his_ intuition of what Spock was trying to do.

He nodded silently, still glaring.

Spock turned on his heel and Jim followed. Apparently they weren't going to talk just yet. That was fine. Jim was still trying to work out what he was going to say. Should he apologize? It sounded silly, but so did his complaints. Who cared if Spock didn't like touching him? He was just a friend. And yet the thought of Spock's arms around him when he was crying, so relieved that his crew was safe, kind of made it a big deal. It was the first time anyone had been there, after a tense situation. The first time Jim had a shoulder offered. Not even Bones knew how much it scared him when his crew was in danger. So maybe he thought their friendship meant a bit more than Spock did. Apparently Jim just couldn't get things right between them.

Jim was focused as he changed and stretched out. He still wasn't sure where he stood. He wanted to know before he presented any specific position to Spock.

Spock ordered the walls completely opaque, and Jim tensed. Spock just started directing him through the movements though. Jim was stiff, thrown off, not just because it had been a while. Spock had him completely off balance. And he wasn't doing anything with him there. He was going to loose his strategic position.

"Jim." One word was all the warning he got before his feet were swept out from under him and Jim found himself in the air.

One knee was resting against Spock's shoulder, like he was kneeling there. The other was trapped against Spock's chest by the arm he was using to support most of his weight, fingers pressed into his thigh. Jim's back was bent, Spock's other hand along the curve. Jim's arms were locked straight, his hands on Spock's shoulders, leaving him folded awkwardly over him. Spock's brown eyes were intense, staring up at him and revealing nothing of what he was thinking. Jim didn't feel like he could breath.

Spock shifted him, so Jim's knees were tucked just below his arms and both of his hands were tight on Jim's legs, supporting him easily against his chest. And then he was sliding down, and Spock was holding him so tight, still looking up at him with nothing visible in his eyes. And Jim's feet were only inches from the ground. Jim felt dizzy, dazed and his stomach was trembling inside.

"Jim." Spock breathed against his mouth and Jim found his arms turning to jelly.

He melted and Spock pressed him against the wall, kissing him. He nipped at Jim's lips, soothing them with gentle presses of his own. Jim sighed, eyes fluttering shut. Spock was a perfect gentleman about it, politely not sliding his tongue into Jim's open mouth. Jim was a bit less of a gentleman, tugging Spock closer by his ears. Spock bit harder on Jim's lower lip, sucking apologetically at marks he left when Jim's breath hitched with the slight pain.

And then Jim realized what he was doing.

He shoved Spock back forcefully, and was rewarded by being dropped on his tailbone. "What the-"

"I apologize for-"

"You _kissed_ me!" Jim gasped, pressing his fingers to the over sensitized flesh of his mouth.

They both fell silent, staring at each other. Jim wanted to stand, because he was so confused and nervous that he needed to pace, but his legs still felt like jelly. He was panting and his legs were shaking. Spock was stiff, frozen in place like a statue. Jim didn't blame him.

"It had been my intent to apologize for my behavior this morning." Spock finally blurted out, and damn did it sound like a nervous declaration.

Jim laughed, because what the hell else could he do? "You? I'm the one who should apologize. What was that even about?"

"I do not know." Spock admitted. "But you were angered by my actions and I-"

"Spock." Jim raised his hand to stop him. "_Spock_. What right do I have to touch you? It's not...I'm sorry I was such a dick. I'm sorry I was asking so much. You didn't have to..."

"I had believed it would offer you some measure of comfort." Spock said quickly, voice tight.

"I...that's not...I've been acting really weird during this. I shouldn't have been kissing you. I shouldn't be touching you." Jim folded over on himself, resting his elbows on his knees and shoving his shaking hands in his hair. "You've already done so much for me and I've done nothing but take from this relationship. I have no right to ask you to put up with me. I don't even know what I'm doing here. I just-"

Jim shut up immediately, because Spock was kneeling in front of him, his hand firmly on his chin. "I do not agree with you."

Spock carded his fingers through Jim's hair, tangling their hands as he did and drawing them down. Jim couldn't hide the trembling in his hands as Spock squeezed his fingers gently. Jim dragged Spock's hand up, holding it against his cheek, pressing an awkward kiss to his knuckles. Spock let go of his chin, shifted his hand to the back of Jim's neck, down his shoulder, his arm, his wrist, until his fingers were ghosting over Jim's free hand.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Jim chanted, shaking his head.

Spock shut him up quite efficiently by hauling him to his feet. "I have informed you that I have no censure for your behavior, Jim. Do not apologize where no offense was taken."

Jim blushed and looked towards the ground sheepishly. "Still. I'll try to tone it down. No public displays."

… .. . .. ...

"Sam!" Jim chastised his computer screen. "It's about damn time!"

George Samuel Kirk gave his brother a look properly described as cautious, though the term left some of his alarm and confusion out. "Uh...Hi. Jim."

"Enough with the pleasantries." Jim flopped down, folding his arms over his chest. "I didn't call a Kirk family confab to chit chat."

Winona chuckled. "Why did you call?"

Jim took a deep breath, knowing it was too late to rethink this. "This is going to sound ridiculous, but I need your help seducing my boyfriend."

Sam started cackling and Winona started making a high pitched, excited sound. Jim rolled his eyes, glaring maturely at them. He couldn't exactly explain that that wasn't what he was really doing. He needed to know where they stood and the best way to do that was to throw Spock completely off balance. All teasing aside, there was something really weird with the way they handled each other and he knew the only surefire way to know what Spock was thinking was to get into his head when he wasn't quite in control. Jim's plan mostly consisted of throwing Spock off so bad he didn't question Jim spending the night and then getting Spock to meld with him in the morning when he was sleepy and distracted by Jim being his natural Jim self.

"Do you want to hear what I've got so far or are you just going to laugh?" Jim snapped.

Sam tried unsuccessfully to wipe the smirk off his face. "Yeah. Okay. Lay it on us."

Jim huffed. "Okay. Well, I know he likes my dark blue button down shirt, so I figured I'd wear that. I don't know his opinion on my jeans though."

"Wear the jeans." Winona declared immediately. "Unless you're trying for formal, wear jeans and make up for it with a tie."

Jim smirked. "Okay. Tie. Got that. I figured I'd probably wear my glasses too, he kind of stares when I wear them and I think maybe it throws him off his game."

Sam frowned. "Since when did you need glasses?"

"Reading glasses." Jim waved it off. "It's not that I _need_ them, it just reduces the strain on my eyes when I'm working long hours. Can we get back to the point here?"

"How are you doing your hair?" Winona asked.

"Probably going for the 'you can't mess this up worse' look." Jim shrugged. "He's not the kind of guy who sees something so completely perfect and just has to mess it up. Which is probably a good thing because everytime I see him I just want to fuck up his hair."

"Oh my god." She agreed. "I thought I was the only one. Not to be creepy and muscling in on your territory, but I just wanted to mess up that silly bowl cut."

Sam laughed. "I've seen the pictures. Can't say I don't agree with you."

"Great." Jim rolled his eyes. "Now that we know wanting to mess up my boyfriend's hair is a family trait, can we move on? I haven't tied a tie in forever. What look am I going for? And how do I wear it?"

Jim spent the next hour talking with his family, making devious plans. Somehow, it felt great. He'd never really gotten a chance to bond with them. Eventually he was going to have to thank Spock for that. Thank Spock for saving his life, thank Spock for dragging him out of his tower, thank Spock for making him feel like a part of the Enterprise, thank Spock for making him feel like a part of his family again. He had a lot to thank Spock for. He'd get around to it, to a proper thank you that Spock really deserved.

But first Jim was going to get answers.

… .. . .. …

Sulu leaned on a wall, nodding to a few passing crew members. When he was sure they passed, he knocked three times on the locked door beside him. A second later, he knocked again. The door whooshed open and he slipped in. It shut behind him and re-locked. Uhura, Scotty and McCoy glanced up at him from various positions around the deserted observation deck. Chekov didn't bother looking up, playing with a PADD. As Sulu moved to sit on the couch next to him, everyone else closed in to form an impromptu circle.

"Alright lass." Scotty glanced sideways at Uhura. "What did ye call us here for?"

She locked his lips, glancing nervously at them. "Well, I have something I think we need to talk about. You guys are the only ones who know about what's going on between Kirk and Spock. I...I know this is going to sound crazy, but...I think Chekov is right."

"Oh thank god." Sulu breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought I was the only one."

Scotty shrugged. "The lad makes a good argument."

McCoy grimaced. "Okay. So now what? Even if they are developing...a thing for each other, what are we supposed to do? Stand around gossiping like hens? They seem to be doing just fine on their own with out any interference."

"But they're still trying to break up." Sulu pointed out. "What if they succeed and end up ruining their friendship?"

"Have you seen those two?" Bones snorted. "They won't break up. They've forgotten they aren't actually in a relationship. They'll just end up fixing it every time they try to break it off."

"Valid argument." Uhura agreed. "But that doesn't mean we can't do anything and everything to make it better. Now, clearly Chekov has proven to be a mastermind here so I think it's time we get a crash course on how we're going to make it painfully obvious that we are supporting this."

Chekov looked up, and turned his PADD so everyone could see. "This is plan..."

… .. . .. …

Jim skidded over to the table his command crew was sitting at, nearly toppling over as he tried to keep his tray from spilling. Spock's hand jackknifed out, steadying him immediately even as he continued focusing on his food. Jim slid in next to him and Spock skimmed his hand up his back before retrieving it. Jim missed the looks he got for that. When he glanced over, Uhura was chatting with Sulu, McCoy was scowling, and Scotty and Chekov were leaned over a PADD.

"Morning." Jim smiled. They threw a few off hand greetings and Jim rolled his eyes. "Be that way."

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "How would you have them greet you Jim?"

Jim smirked, swallowing his food before he answered. "I don't know, more throwing themselves at my feet? I'm like a plant and attention is my sunshine; I need lavished with it."

Sulu snorted, painfully by the sound of it.

Spock cocked his head to the side. "I do not suspect it would be convenient or efficient for any crew member to position themselves at your feet Jim, especially as you are currently sitting."

Jim was not letting that one go. "Pretty sure I could show you a very convenient reason to be between your knees."

Bones didn't miss a beat, throwing Chekov's fork at Jim's head. "It is too early for that kind of teasing Jim."

He laughed, mostly because Chekov hadn't noticed his fork was missing. "Don't hate because it took you so much longer than me to figure out how to push his buttons."

"I ain't aiming for the same buttons as you." McCoy glanced up, one eyebrow poised to attack. "I'm also not the one with my hand on the hobgoblin under the table."

Jim frowned and oh! Hello. How did his hand get on Spock's thigh? Spock was ignoring him, so it was probably there longer than it should have been too. He pulled it back covertly, not at all winning with his blush. Sulu and Uhura had stopped their conversation and were staring at them. Chekov was grinning ear to ear in a way Jim really didn't like. Scotty...was still looking at his PADD like nothing was happening.

Jim turned his attention to his food, and waited for the awkwardness to dissipate. He kept his free hand on the table, though, so no one could comment on that again, and so his hand couldn't try to mutiny and decide Spock's person was so much better than his own.

When everyone had returned to their conversations, Jim turned his attention to Spock. "Hey, I was wondering if we could talk tonight? After our shift."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Affirmative."

Jim scowled. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I am unsure as to why you have asked permission."

Jim pouted. "You know, sometimes I acknowledge that you do things with your time other than humor me. It's considered polite to ask before you monopolize someone's time."

"Fascinating." Spock's eyebrow was smirking at him again.

Jim returned to his food with an exaggerated sigh. "Whatever. And wear something casual."

"Casual?" Spock raised both eyebrows.

"Not your uniform?" Jim shook his head. "I know you have things other than your uniform in your room to wear. Mostly because Rand can be a bit of a creeper, but that's besides the point. Which, by the way, I think you should dress down in public on occasion so the yeomen on my ship stop asking me if I've been leaving clothes in your room."

Uhura snorted. "Tell me she didn't."

"She did." Jim sighed. "She genuinely asked me how long I had been keeping my clothes in his room before we started dating. I was like 'um...what?' So she tells me he's got non-regulation clothes in there and that she didn't want to move them back to my room in case we were doing this 'sharing a drawer' thing and I didn't know if I could laugh at that or not."

Spock was giving him that look, and Jim wasn't to sure it was all that fair because it wasn't his fault. "Highly illogical."

"Yeah." Jim snorted. "Anyway. Casual. More casual anyway."

"Why do ye need the lad to be casual?" Scotty asked absently.

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Because I asked. Mind your own business."

Scotty shrugged. "Wouldn't be a bad idea to leave some of yer clothes with him, though, if ye plan on spending any more nights in the lad's room."

Jim choked on his food, giving Scotty a horrified look. Spock glanced up, surprised. No one else was moving, until Bones decided Jim was choking too long and moved to check on him. Jim wheezed, trying to convey his current hatred for Scotty and not succeeding. Spock decided he wasn't going to draw further attention to his statements and opted not to join the commentary. By the time Jim had finished coughing and McCoy was convinced he hadn't aspirated his food, Spock was done and ready to go. He paused as he was cleaning up, turning to regard Jim.

"I will dress casually."

Jim tried to beam at him, but it was a little difficult because his throat was killing him.

"Vere did my fork go?"

… .. . .. …

Rand was going to give him an award. Jim was so nervous that he got ready an hour early and had time to re-fold his clothes and put them back in his drawers. He had forgotten, when he first tied his tie, to apply cologne, so he had to remove it and forgot that he could just loosen it.

He'd cleaned everything up and actually ironed his shirt. The tie Jim had picked out was a vertical pleated, avocado green silk number. It looked sharp with the deep blue shirt. Very sharp. Jim actually felt really good. His hair was carefully tousled, so he didn't look like a slob, but there was very little Spock could do, short of getting it wet, that could mess it up. If Spock was getting his hair wet, Jim had a little more to worry about than what his hair looked like. Finally, Jim perched his glasses on the end of his nose. He'd just 'absentmindedly' leave those there until a little later. They'd be just fine on Spock's end table for a night.

Jim was also wearing his red shoes, because he knew exactly what Spock would think of that. Any advantage.

He chimed at Spock's door, only a little nervous. He was confident. James T. Kirk was a natural charmer. If he wanted Spock off balance, he was going to get it.

Spock opened the door and Jim felt like the floor had gone out under him.

He was standing there, looking like someone had found a way to distill sex and crystallize it. He was wearing a plain white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm and a double breasted golden vest, highlighted with charcoal stripes of varied thickness, drawing the eye up and down his lean torso. He had a pair of matching, tight charcoal slacks. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone. And, when Jim managed to drag his eyes down there, he noticed a pair of polished black boots, not regulation, that hugged his calves over the slacks.

Jim heard a wolf whistle and snapped his head around to see a crew member taking a picture of them. "Get out of here!"

The girl winked and raced off, no doubt to share her new picture. Jim growled, placing his hand on Spock's chest and shoving him into the room. He was going to have Scotty or Chekov make a jamming device so no one could take pictures on his ship.

"I changed my mind." Jim growled when the door slammed shut behind him. "You don't get to wear 'casual' clothes."

Spock raised an eyebrow and glanced down at himself. "Would you like me to change?"

"No." Jim hissed. "I just don't want anyone looking at you in those clothes."

Spock cocked his head to the side, confused. "You are...jealous?"

Jim felt his skin flush with something not at all like embarrassment. "I'm concerned for your safety. I don't want you walking around the ship with half my crew lusting after you."

Spock smirked, and damn if that wasn't the best thing in the universe, and reached up to remove Jim's glasses. "I believe you now understand my own view on your choice of casual wear."

Spock had just admitted to being jealous. At least, that was how his brain was choosing to file it. Jim smirked, licking his lips and catching Spock's hand to fold his glasses shut. The air was charged with something indescribable, but it left Jim feeling heady and ten feet tall. Spock tossed, actually _tossed_, his glasses sideways, onto his desk. Jim curled his fingers in the fabric of his shirt, reveling in the way it scrunched up, and walked him back to the couch. Spock was entirely too graceful as he sank to a seat, splaying his legs so Jim could stand a little closer.

"Stay." Jim ordered, and turned on his heel to exit the room.

He felt Spock's eyes on him as he sauntered out the door. The hall was empty, apparently no one wanted to hang around when Jim was in a mood. He snagged his hair gel off the counter and headed back to Spock. He was messing his hair up if it was the last thing Spock let him do. Spock raised an eyebrow when Jim re-entered the room. Jim's breath hitched when he saw him, sitting almost exactly as he left him, legs splayed open, arms resting on the back of the couch, eyes intensely focused on him. Jim smirked at Spock behind his eyelashes, moving forward with purpose.

He sank into Spock's lap, reasoning that it would give him the best access to his hair. He popped the cap on the gel and slicked it all over his fingers before burying them in Spock's hair. Spock tossed the gel to the side and shifted so he could watch Jim work. He was biting his tongue so a sliver of pink was visible from inside his mouth, lips parted slightly. Spock's hair was soft, something Jim had noticed before but never really let himself appreciate. The initial, messy, loose spikes Jim left in his hair were appealing for no other reason then he had put them there. He played with Spock's hair for a bit, but decided he didn't want it to be messy. He wanted it to look good, even sexier if it was possibly. He ignored that he apparently found his bowl cut sexy, in an abstract way. Jim made it neater, spiked the back forward and brought his bangs back and up, combed it back with his fingers. It was still a little messy, and it looked like Jim had been allowed to screw with his hair, but Jim liked it. He liked that Spock let him do that.

"Want to see?" Jim waggled his eyebrows.

"That is not necessary." Spock straightened Jim's tie, from where he had thrown it over his shoulder.

Jim wasn't sure why, but the fact that Spock didn't care what he'd done to his hair was incredible. Jim wiped his fingers clean on his jeans, noting the way Spock watched him do it. Spock's eyes followed his fingers up his thigh, and Jim slowly dragged them up his chest until he could loosen his tie. Spock's fingers twitched. Jim wondered if it was because he wanted to touch, or because he couldn't stand his tie being so loose and crooked. Jim popped the top button on his collar, watching Spock's eyebrow twitch up ever so slightly.

Jim slid out of Spock's lap, shoving his hands in his pockets. "So. Has the science crew finished their reports on that planet?"

Spock looked up at him sharply from where he had been watching Jim's hands. His jaw was tight, and Jim noticed it twitch slightly. Spock sat up straight, closing his legs and setting his hands at his side tightly. Apparently he wasn't too keen on the conversation change. His switch to professional didn't quite work, however, in those clothes and with Jim's handiwork all over his hair.

"They have, Captain. If you desire I am capable of sending the reports to you. I am also willing to provide a summary." Spock spoke stiffly, impatiently.

Jim smiled, moving to lean on the desk and picking up his glasses to inspect them. "That'd be great. I know we sent reports up fairly often, but it couldn't have been easy compiling the rest of the information when we came up. I'm sure they'll be working on those samples for a while anyway."

"Indeed."

Jim slid his glasses back on, humming. "Anything to keep them busy and happy."

Spock stood, sharply, and tugged his vest down, actually messing his shirt up a bit more. "Is this all you wished to discuss?"

Jim froze, because that sounded an awful lot like disappointed pouting. After a moment's consideration, he shrugged casually, because throwing Spock off this well was bound to be a victory.

"Not all." Jim admitted. "I was sort of hoping to ask you a bit about this bond."

Spock cocked his head to the side. "I see. What do you wish to discuss about the bond?"

"Well..." Jim headed back over to Spock's area, before turning so he wasn't looking at him. "I was wondering why it is that using the bond tends to make me sleepy, for one."

He felt Spock step closer. "You are referring to a sensation separate from the exhaustion you experienced before?"

Jim cocked his head to the side, before glancing over his shoulder. "Well, I guess sleepy isn't the right word anyway. It's a bit like when I'm buzzed."

"Buzzed?" Spock asked flatly, so it barely counted as a question.

Jim pouted, sighing dramatically. "I guess it's hard to describe to someone who isn't effected by alcohol. It's like there's this warm light just under my skin. I feel...never mind. It's hard to explain and weird."

"I am unsure how to answer your question, then."

Jim shrugged, turning to look at him. "I'm not sure how I could help. I mean, it isn't just when the bond is open, but that's when I notice it most. It's really hard to explain."

Spock's eyes roved over his face, before he reached up. Jim's eyes widened, and for a second he wondered if Spock was going to meld with him, but he simply took Jim's glasses and walked back towards the couch. Jim felt like his heart was doing a hundred meter dash in his chest. He found a goofy smile on his face as he realized Spock really didn't want his glasses on him.

"As I can not answer to the nature of what you feel from the bond it would be prudent to move to another conversation topic." Spock informed him, turning around to face him.

Jim's grin sank into a mischievous smirk as he spotted his glasses in Spock's breast pocket. "Alright. Why don't we talk about what the bond makes you feel?"

"As bonds are a common part of Vulcan life I am unable to provide any adequate description of the bond's presence." Spock put his hands behind his back. "It is simply a natural connection. Until its presence was established by a mind healer, the bonds we shared were similar in nature to those created by non-telepathic species. Those bonds I can not access nor affect. I could not describe a difference in them. Though they may affect my katra, they are not tied to it in the same way."

Jim hummed, sliding his hands out of his pockets and thrusting his thumbs through his belt loops. "Sounds frustrating. Do you ever wish you _could_ reach out and feel people through your other bonds, even just friends?"

Spock glanced down at the ground, both eyebrows bouncing up for a second. "On occasion."

Jim strummed his fingers on his thighs, chewing his lip momentarily. "Was it everything you ever imagined?"

Spock's eyes snapped up to Jim's, sauntered their way back down to his hands and slowly back up. "More."

Jim tried to even out his breathing, but it was just a bit too hard to be convincing. He reached up and popped his collar, watching as the action completely consumed Spock's attention. Jim gripped his tie, intending to remove it completely. Spock was in his space before he even had a chance to loosen it more, gripping his wrist.

"Do not remove your tie." Spock's tone was hard, ordering him to leave it on.

Jim pursed his lips, considering it. "I'll trade you then."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Trade?"

"I'll leave the tie on." Jim leaned closer, so he was whispering in Spock's ear. "If you undo another button on your shirt."

He lingered just until Spock tilted his head to the side, clearly catching the scent of his cologne. Jim leaned back far enough to fix Spock with a challenging look. It was his move. Spock hesitated only for a moment, to his credit, before releasing Jim's wrist and casually freeing another button on his shirt. Jim felt like he had just been given a hypo full of adrenaline. Pure excitement raced through his veins and surged against the flimsy walls they found there. Jim barely felt like he could contain it and reached out to skim his fingers along Spock's collar, down to brush the newly exposed skin and the first curls of chest hair he found there. Spock reached up and fixed Jim's own collar, before straightening and tightening the tie. Jim's stomach tightened too.

It was logical. Jim had seen him without his shirt numerous times, so he had no reason to hesitate...except that this wasn't one of those situations. By complying, Spock had just admitted something. Jim hadn't quite deciphered the message, be he got it loud and clear. Spock wanted his tie on, for some reason. He'd have to thank his mom for the idea. He let him get away with tightening it for free.

Spock's hand was still on his tie.

Jim smiled up at him, not quite innocent enough to be coy. "Anything else you want me to leave on? Or should I start removing things?"

Spock smoothed the tie against Jim's chest, looking him over. "And what would you desire if I were to make demands of your clothes?"

Jim dropped his hands to snake his forefingers through Spock's belt loops and glanced away innocently. "I'm sure I could come up with something."

"And if I have no further terms or conditions?" Spock was using his negotiations voice and it was making Jim's muscles hum.

"I could certainly make some choices of my own..." Jim smirked. "Or I could start with my own negotiations."

"I do not doubt that the acts would be intrinsically connected." Jim skimmed one hand up, going for his glasses, when Spock caught his hand, tangling their fingers and diverting Jim from his task. "Do not attempt to put your glasses on again."

"Oh? Or what?" Jim pressed a little closer, letting his fingers dance with Spock's. "Is that a request or a challenge?"

"You are free to interpret it how you please." Spock told him sharply.

Jim pulled his hand free of Spock's and tugged sharply on his shirt, untucking it from his pants. He stepped back to inspect his work and certainly enjoyed the image. Spock was starting to look positively disheveled and it was hard for Jim not to want more. He wanted him standing in front of him, completely debauched and private in a way no one else ever had or ever would see. Jim knew he must have looked like a predator just then, almost hungry.

"Unbutton your vest." Jim ordered.

"Tuck in your shirt." Spock challenged.

Jim could probably make a few lewd comments about how fast he had his hands down his pants, but he was far more focused on the fact that Spock's long fingers were making quick work of his vest buttons. Jim had just managed to get his shirt tucked in when Spock popped the last button open and let his vest just hang there. Spock made a look that was ever so slightly disgusted and immediately fixed Jim's job. Jim felt like he was going to collapse on the floor as Spock's firm hands shifted over him, pushing and tucking and making him neat.

Jim gasped and started laughing softly. So that was it? Jim wanted to mess Spock up and make him gorgeously filthy and Spock wanted to make him look completely untouched, pristine. He could live with that. God could he live with that. Anything as long as Spock was playing along.

"My hair doesn't bother you?" Jim teased.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "It does not. Should it?"

"Well, it's awful messy." Jim smirked, batting his eyes playfully.

"It is intentionally styled and therefor acceptable." Spock declared and maybe he didn't want him completely perfect.

"Absolutely no other terms?" Jim questioned.

"Not at this time, no."

Jim was feeling ready to take a gamble. "Let me stay here tonight."

And he waited for Spock's terms. Jim was willing to negotiate quite a bit for what he wanted. Spock didn't hesitate in the slightest though, apparently already knowing what he wanted, but not having been willing to leave himself open to one of Jim's demands.

"Tomorrow when you arrive at my quarters after we have concluded our shift you will bring your change of attire here. You will not allow others to see you dressed casually." Spock ordered him around like it were nothing. "You will bring a tie."

"The tie will cost you extra." Jim said immediately.

"Extra?" Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Extra." Jim folded his arms over his chest. "We share the bed tonight."

"Acceptable."

Jim grinned. "Unbutton your shirt."

Spock raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Jim's continued demands. Rather than comply, he headed into the back of his room and went to his dresser. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for and Jim found an article of clothing flying for his face. A black vest. Jim looked up at Spock, surprised. It was one thing to change how he was wearing his clothing, it was another entirely to ask him to wear Spock's clothing. It was...okay, it was a bit exciting. Jim slipped the vest on, well aware it wasn't quite tailored for him. It was still going to look good. Spock watched him curiously as he did up the buttons on the front. He didn't know what was so fascinating about the look. He'd worn formal uniforms before, done himself up in a professional manner, but somehow this was different.

Spock started unbuttoning his shirt when he was satisfied that Jim had done as he asked. Jim was torn, because a large part of him wanted in on that, helping undo buttons, but another, surprisingly louder part of him wanted to enjoy the show. Spock was coming undone for him.

"Fuck." Jim whispered, marveling at the contrast between Spock's state of dress and the perfect way he just stood there.

Spock gave him a look he was going to describe as smoldering because his brain had short circuited and couldn't find a better description. "Do you have further demands?"

Jim grinned, because he never would have guessed that Spock would be willing to play games. "Not right now, no. Are you having fun?"

"Fun is an illogical and unnecessary concept." They both knew that meant yes.

Jim hummed his appreciation for the joke and pulled out his communicator to check the time. He was more than a little surprised that they'd spent a couple hours there already. It had seemed like just minutes. Jim whistled lowly, more than a little shocked.

"It's getting late." Jim explained when Spock gave him a questioning glance. "We should probably head to bed."

Spock nodded. "Very well."

Jim watched him turn away to slid his vest off and that little part of him that always insisted he go overboard managed to get control. "Hey Spock, I'm a little tied up, want to help?"

Spock turned around to look at him and froze. Jim had slipped his tie off and managed to somewhat effectively knot it around his wrists, shit eating grin on his face. He expected Spock was going to just untie his poor abused strip of silk, but apparently he was in a mood for humoring him. He swiftly undid the buttons on the vest and Jim's shirt, pushing them off of his shoulders and leaving them there. It was when Spock started undoing his pants that Jim started to question his own logic. Jim shut his eyes, completely unable to hide the full body shudder as the jeans slipped from his hips. Jim kicked the pants and his shoes off in the same easy motion.

Without a glance for his red boxers, Spock untied his hands with a quick flick of his wrist and decided to go back to undressing himself.

Jim shoved Spock back towards the bed, surprising him. He stumbled until his knees hit the bed and Jim shoved him down on it. Spock allowed Jim to pull his boots off and toss them aside. Then Jim's hands were scrambling up him, undoing buttons on his pants and pushing at his shirt to remove it. Spock seemed to regard him as a curiosity for a moment before switching their positions, pining Jim to the bed and removing his shirt completely. Jim let out an involuntary laugh when Spock's finger danced over the top of his hip, climbing for his ribs.

Spock froze, cocking his head to the side. "You are ticklish."

Jim glared. "Don't even think about it."

Spock proceeded to tickle him until he couldn't breath. Jim collapsed back from their impromptu wrestling session with an exhausted breath almost ten minutes later, grinning. Spock finished undressing and pulled on a pair of pajama pants before throwing a spare pair to Jim.

"You will be dressed while you are in my bed."

Jim couldn't help but snort. "Doesn't that defeat the purpose?"

"As your purpose is to sleep, it does not."

He laughed. "Point. Okay. I'll wear pants."

Now significantly more dressed, Jim found himself in a fantastic mood as Spock moved to lay down next to him. They'd had an awesome time hanging out and now they were having a sleep over. What could be better? Jim could get used to having a friend that humored him without a single question.

Jim snuggled up against Spock easily, tired and content, and not even thinking about why it should be uncomfortable. Spock allowed Jim to tangle their limbs somewhat messily, ordering the lights off. Jim grinned when Spock nuzzled him once, quickly, before relaxing to sleep. He was definitely going to wear cologne more often. He was also contemplating a way to make his room smell like Spock, because he could already feel all of the tension washing out of his muscles. He was more than content to let himself fall asleep in seconds.

… .. . .. …

Spock was awake. Jim knew this because Spock had gone to bed at the same time as him and, according to the xenobiology notes still tucked away in his brain, Vulcans didn't require the same amount of sleep as Terrans. Naughty Vulcan, treating himself to a lazy morning in bed. Also apparently enjoying the smell of Jim's faded cologne and unwashed hair, based on his strategic positioning. Jim snuggled a bit closer, before yawning against Spock's shoulder and blinking his eyes open tiredly. Spock shifted so he could look at him, looking positively sleepy. Jim leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on his lips, because it seemed like a good way to start the day, and Spock carded his fingers through Jim's hair.

"Mm." Jim smiled against his lips. "Meld with me?"

It was a simple movement, and then Jim was pleasantly washed away. Spock's thoughts weren't sluggish, but they were far less sharp, rounded and softened by sleep. Jim tried to convey his want for the bond to be opened. Spock complied easily enough, still quick as lightning. Immediately Jim was flooded with a warm kind of affection that made him want to hide and bask in it in equal parts. It wasn't some fairytale affection, because the kind of love people had in fairytales was simple and boring and shallow. Also, the only people that love princesses were princes who loved them like any other prize they had won. Spock had awesome best friend affection for him.

Jim was hit with a wave of amusement and was reminded they weren't _just_ using the bond. He didn't really feel the need to be apologetic or embarrassed though. Spock was in his head, so he could suffer through his thoughts. Jim got the faintest impression from Spock, a thought that McCoy would find Jim's status as fairytale princess quite interesting. He thought about sticking his tongue out at him, which was as good as actually doing so while they were in the meld.

Spock interrupted that thought with the logical point that they should get up. Jim was promptly reminded that Spock was being unproductive. Naughty cuddling Vulcan. Spock didn't disagree with him.

When Spock ended the meld, Jim stretched out on the bed, watching him move to sit on the edge before standing.

Spock's hair was a complete mess, and Jim loved that. He'd like it a little more if Spock was scruffy, but he figured that might be pushing it. Besides, he didn't know how long it would take for Spock to grow that messy stubble look and he didn't particularly want anyone else on the crew being privy to it.

Spock glanced over at him, eyebrow raised. "You are staring at me."

"You gonna do something about it?" Jim challenged.

So Spock reached over to tickle him, earning a giggling captain curled around his arm. "Release me Jim. I must shower before my shift."

Jim hummed. "Okay. Think I'm going to rest here a little longer. Wake me back up when you're done. I still need to go get clothes."

The next thing he knew, he was being shook awake by a damp, half dressed Vulcan. Apparently a sonic shower hadn't cut it. Spock returned to dressing while Jim made an effort to crawl out of bed. With a quick gesture permitting him to use the shower, Jim stumbled off in search of cleaner skin. He was only moderately disgruntled by the fact that his shampoo was in his room, too far for him to go get it. He had a feeling Spock would not oblige him if he asked him to fetch. Oh well. His hair wasn't _that_ finicky and he could survive a day smelling like Spock. He also had no idea where his hair gel was, but he could worry about that later, when he wasn't trying to wake up.

Jim shuffled out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, looking for the majority of his clothes. They'd made quite the mess of Spock's room the night before, and Jim was more than a little surprised he could even fall asleep with clothes on his floor. Spock glanced over, as if he just realized they'd left a trail when they undressed the night before, and started picking up clothes. Jim was just glad he wasn't missing any articles that he was aware of.

Dressed in jeans and looking semi-presentable enough to walk the few feet to his room, Jim found himself hesitating. "I'll...uh...see you at breakfast, then."

Spock glanced up from where he was folding his clothing to be washed. "Affirmative."

Jim walked fast back to his room, and was so glad no one appeared before he got there. Jim had gotten caught walking from peoples rooms more than is fair share in the academy, but it was different now. Especially since they weren't sleeping together. He didn't need his crew getting any more wrong of an impression.

His morning went mostly normal right up until his shift started. Rand was delivering PADDs for the first set of morning paperwork when she went very still and gave him the oddest expression he had _ever_ seen on a woman's face.

"You smell like Spock." She murmured, apparently loud enough for the entire bridge crew to turn and look at Jim.

"Excuse me?" Jim choked.

She flushed considerably. "Ah! I mean...you don't smell like your usual shampoo. It's...ah...I'm sorry. I'll mind my own business."

"Please do." Jim hissed, turning back to his PADD because if he looked at anyone questions would start.

A moment later Jim found himself struggling with a headache. Rand was still making the rounds with PADDs, so he suspected people were taking a little bit longer to chat. He was going to ignore that.

"Spock." Jim called absently, an annoyed crease in his brow. "Where the hell are my glasses?"

Spock turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "I do no know why you would expect me to know their location, Captain."

Jim gave him a condescending smile. "You were the last person to see them. I distinctly recall you taking them hostage. Where did you put them?"

"It would be quite illogical to hold an inanimate and unimportant object hostage, especially as I have no demand to make of you." Spock's voice was completely calm. "I do not know the location of your glasses, Captain."

"I don't believe you." Jim pouted.

"Um...Captain?" Rand slunk back over awkwardly, a helpful smile on her face. "I know where your glasses are. I could get them for you?"

Ah. So she was attempting to make up for her previous...oh. Jim flushed. If she knew where they were that was because she'd been in Spock's room some time that morning...Which meant she had probably also found his hair gel and the shoes Jim had stupidly left the room without grabbing or putting on that morning. God damn it. Jim blushed, shaking his head and thanking her all the same. He did not need his glasses. He would put up with the headache.

He could feel Uhura smirking at his back, the dirty little traitor.

"Can I help you lieutenant?" He turned to glare at her.

She shrugged innocently. "Well, you could help me verify the authenticity of this photo going around the ship."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "If I threw you out an airlock no one would be able to prove it. I'm that good with computers."

"Do not threaten Lieutenant Uhura." Spock called back over his shoulder, otherwise ignoring their conversation.

Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt her."

"I find I am more concerned for your safety than hers, Captain."

Jim sighed and swiveled back to front as people started chuckling. "Whatever happened to my respect on this ship?"

"Aw. We still respect you." Sulu smirked. "Spock just talks back because he loves you."

Jim narrowed his eyes at him. "Keep up the cheekiness, Sulu. I'll lock you in a closet with our navigator."

"Vhy is this being punishment?"

"Maybe our Captain had a traumatic experience with a closet once." Sulu shrugged.

Jim rolled his eyes. "Work. Seriously. At the very least stop distracting me."

He had to smile, when his crew mock gasped in unison, ostensibly horrified by the idea they were being anything less than productive. Jim ignored the creeping self doubt that he was being too open with his crew. They were only human...well, most of them anyway. And excluding Spock, all the other aliens tended towards needing some kind of emotional release to deal with the pressure. It was a wonder, Jim realized, that that drunken mess on the starbase was the first time he'd really genuinely messed up that bad. It seemed he owed more than just Spock thanks for all the things they'd done for him. That reminded him.

Jim sent off a quick thank you letter to his mom, informing her that Spock was apparently a fan of ties and Jim would be conducting further experiments with this. And he sent off a thanks to Sam for mitigating his mothers often harebrained schemes. One of them had to and apparently it wasn't Jim.

There were no further interruptions for his day, which Jim was eternally grateful for. He hurried back to his room right after he ate, well aware that Spock was going to be in the labs for another hour or so. That gave him a little time to get ready. Spock liked neat. Very neat. So Jim needed to make sure he got the look right. This called for somewhat serious consideration. Formal, not Starfleet. Jim really only had the clothing he had bought after he joined Starfleet. A few things he considered casual, but nothing that he though screamed formal wear. Jim had been surprised Spock owned anything that wasn't Starfleet or Vulcan. He now suspected this was because of Uhura, but he was going to let that slide.

Jim needed back up.

Which is exactly how McCoy found himself standing in Jim's room, looking utterly lost. "What am I doing here?"

"Helping." Jim cried in exasperation. "I can't pick out a nice outfit and I need help."

"Uh huh." McCoy raised an eyebrow, considering the door and how he could run out it for a minute before reminding himself that he was supposed to be offering support. "Okay. What look are you going for?" He was going to maim all of them when he got out of there.

Jim whined, "I don't know. I just...need to look better than I currently do. Neat. You know how to look neat and presentable, right?"

Bones snorted. "What's wrong with your usual look?"

Jim gave him and exasperated glare. "Do I really have to explain why I don't want to look like I did the first time we met?"

"It was an interesting first impression." He protested with a smile, shaking his head. "If you want to look sharp, but not formal, kid, just wear your suit without the jacket."

Jim furrowed his brow. "What suit?"

"The pinstriped one." McCoy rolled his eyes when that got no response. "That you bought to wear to my daughter's birthday...Where you introduced my ex's new boyfriend to the joys of Fizzbin?"

Jim's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah! The mobster party!"

"It was from a book Jim." McCoy shook his head. "Never mind."

Jim went to the bottom drawer of his dresser, where he kept the Starfleet uniforms he had to wear when he was in trouble. It was a drawer he never got into unless he was leaving the ship, so he hadn't even considered it. The suit had been a one off thing, and Jim had tucked it away to never think about again. He didn't really keep things planet side. There was a safety deposit box in San Francisco with his name on it, but he wouldn't really miss the contents if he never saw it again. Everything he had that was worth owning he kept with him. Bones had told him once how sad he found that. Jim's room wasn't packed with items, like some people's. He didn't have a home on some planet with a bunch of decorations and pictures. Though Jim had argued it would be a sad place to walk into covered in tarps and dust. What Jim had was almost entirely what Starfleet had issued him, from his clothes to the bed he slept on.

McCoy watched as Jim inspected the brown suit and tie and ironed the bespoke white shirt. He just wanted the kid to have something he could call his own, even if it was a pointy-eared, green-blooded hobgoblin of a computer for a boyfriend.

"Can I leave now?" McCoy implored.

"Yeah. Bones. You can go." Jim rolled his eyes, before stopping to glanced over at him. "Do you think the suspenders are too much?"

"No. I'm sure Spock will love them." McCoy said flatly.

Jim shook his head, laughing. "Okay. Okay. I see your point. Thanks for putting up with me. And for everything you've done...Really. I never realized before just how much I had been relying on you."

McCoy turned for the door, because there was an inexplicable burning in his eyes that he needed to go get checked. "Any time Jim...And thank you for letting me be there."

Jim smiled softly at his back as he left. He still had some work to do. He needed to make his hair neat and presentable, and make sure he wouldn't mess it up when he put his fedora on. He wanted to look good, not just because he could be incredibly vain at times. Once he was almost presentable he checked the time; Spock would be in his room now. Perfect. He tucked his clothes up under his arm and headed over.

Spock's eyes fell to the clothes under his arm as he let him in. "Captain."

Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm going to go change."

Spock wasn't looking in his direction when Jim stepped out of the bathroom, so he flung his arms around Spock's neck, pressing himself against his back. Spock didn't shift from the PADD he was looking at. Jim huffed, strumming his fingers against his chest.

"If you keep ignoring me I'll go find someone who will appreciate how I look in a tie." Jim warned.

Spock tilted his head back, placing a gentle kiss on Jim's jaw. "Patience Jim. I am finishing my work."

Jim sighed, because he couldn't really complain. "Fine. But only because you totally just tried to placate me in an illogical way."

Spock raised an eyebrow, but continued to look at his work. "Is it illogical if it works, Jim?"

Jim leaned down to bite the tip of his ear. "Sometimes you suck as a best friend."

"I apologize." Spock did not sound sincere at all, leaning away to get his ear out of Jim's mouth. "Do not bite me."

Jim huffed. "Entertain me and maybe I wouldn't."

"You are disrupting my work." Spock informed him. "I will devote my attention to you completely if you allow me to finish my work."

Jim was off of him in a snap. "I can do that."

"Thank you."

Jim moved over to the couch, plopping down to watch Spock work. It was probably a little more interesting than it should have been. He'd already noticed he had a habit of watching Spock though, didn't he? And flirting on the bridge, which he really needed to stop doing because it wasn't even like he had any reason to flirt with him. He and Spock didn't have that kind of relationship and it was the whole reason the crew even thought there was anything between them. Well, not the whole reason but probably one of the bigger ones.

Jim crossed his legs, resting his chin on his hand. Spock was all tight firm lines, but not in a way that made Jim feel tense or nervous. It was actually energizing.

Spock set aside his work and turned to regard Jim casually. Jim smirked, because Spock hadn't been joking about the complete attention. Spock moved to sit next to him and his smirk turned into a grin. Even if they were just playing chess, Jim wouldn't trade that kind of attention for anything. He could get used to wearing a tie, if it made interacting with Spock easier. And he wasn't sure what could be much easier than being looked at like you were the center of the damn universe.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**I swear they won't be too much longer figuring it out. I have plenty of pithy comments I could add down here, but somehow they all just pale in comparison to the actual chapter. Oh well.**

**P.S. Yes, Bones was talking about **_**The Great Gatsby**_**. No, I don't own it.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I still don't own.**

**People keep giving me odd looks because I have a bad habit of making the faces I imagine the characters are making. You can't imagine how awkward that is.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

Jim woke up not feeling fantastic. He shuffled grumpily to the shower. About ten second in he realized what was wrong, when he reached for his shampoo and it was not there. Jim slammed his face into the wall a couple times, with no real force. He was beginning to think he had a problem.

This was the first time in a week he had woken up in his own room. He'd moved his shampoo over to Spock's bathroom a few days ago, after the third morning of using Spock's shampoo. Fortunately, the Vulcan hadn't commented on how presumptuous it was for him to walk into his room with the intent of staying the night. It just sort of happened, most of the week. Jim usually stopped by after their shift to discuss work and just ended up staying. It wasn't all that weird, that they talked until they were both tired. Nor was it weird, in Jim's opinion, that they just shared the bed because they were already used to it.

Jim wasn't all that bothered by the fact that they spent most of their nights in uniform either. He wasn't that big a fan of ties. Nor was he all that sure he could focus on work when Spock was out of regulation wear.

Jim got out of his shower, having just sort of scrubbed at his hair until it was good enough because he didn't feel like trudging over to Spock's room. He felt really sluggish and a large part of him just wanted to crawl back into bed. Or rather, wanted to crawl into Spock's bed. He couldn't ever remember waking up feeling sluggish and bad after a night in Spock's room. Stupid magic Vulcan incense and stupid magic Vulcan touching and stupid Spock for being Vulcan so he had all that. Jim felt a little better for having chastised him in his mind.

His command crew were all busy, since they would be reaching the Starfleet outpost in a couple days, so Jim had to eat breakfast by himself. He smiled tightly at the crew members that waved, but he just wasn't feeling...vivacious. All Jim could feel was this weird pressure in his head, almost, but not quite, entirely unlike a headache. It was accompanied with the kind of slip-sliding sensation in his stomach that made him set aside his food, though he wasn't nauseous. He always hated that feeling, because it never made any sense to him. It was a nausea he was most used to experiencing when he hadn't eaten in far too long, the kind of sickness that wasn't sickness at all. It was psychosomatic, he figured, just his mind telling his body to reject any changes to its tenuous state of not complete disaster. For the life of him he couldn't think of why he would be feeling like that.

Jim took a deep, steadying breath as he settled into the command chair. No one seemed to notice. Jim felt weird, like his skin was freezing but the muscles just below were burning up. He felt like he was going to melt. His eyes were burning hot, dry and strange.

Jim licked his lip absently, nervously. How long had he been on the bridge? Something was telling him it was a lot longer than he thought. He looked down at the PADD he didn't remember getting, and couldn't read a single thing on it. His lungs were heavy, like some viscous, dense gas, not a liquid, was filling them. Jim stood, and immediately regretted it as the PADD slipped from his hand with a crash. It felt like people were turning to him in slow motion.

"Spock." Jim whispered, voice feeling like it was cutting his throat.

"Captain?" Spock was across the room, at his side in a second.

"I think I need Bones." Jim whispered, scared, or maybe he shouted, he didn't know. Spock nodded, gripping his arm softly. "Take the con."

"I will accompany you to sickbay." Spock challenged him easily, the look in his eyes making it clear he wasn't going to let him go.

Jim didn't shake his head, but he met Spock's eyes. "I can walk to sickbay on my own."

Spock's nostrils flared with an angry exhalation, soft. "Lieutenant Uhura. Accompany the captain."

Uhura was on her feet in seconds, placing a gentle hand on Jim's shoulder. "Yes sir."

Jim was grateful they were off the bridge when his knees gave out. He looked up blearily to see Uhura speaking into her communicator. He didn't know what she was saying, his ears flooded with silence, but the look on her face was tight and concerned. She was kneeling next to him, soft brown eyes filled with concern. One word broke through the haze, Kirk, and then darkness engulfed him.

… .. . .. …

Jim woke up to a very unusual sensation. Specifically a warm pair of lips pressed to his. Jim had half a mind to pretend he was still asleep, because he could already picture Bones' fairytale princess jokes about being woken by a kiss. The worry flaring through the completely open bond at the back of his head, and the sneaking suspicion that no one would be stupid enough to kiss him while he was dating Spock, caused him to blink his eyes open. Spock pulled back, expression tight.

"Ha!" Bones laughed from somewhere near by. "I told you."

Spock straightened up, tugging his shirt down. "Indeed. It would seem your assessment was correct. Intimate physical contact was sufficient for allowing me to draw forward the Captain's conscious."

Jim had to smirk, tiredly. "Not that I mind, but you know you could have just melded with me, right? Or was this some kind of bet?"

Spock stiffened, giving Jim a wide eyed look. "It is highly unethical to meld with one who is unconscious, especially without consent, Captain. The situation was not so drastic as to require I break this convention."

Bones smirked, shoving Spock to the side so he could run a tricorder over Jim. "It was also a bet."

Jim chuckled softly. "Awesome. From now on you have my consent Spock. You can meld with me whenever you want."

McCoy glanced up sharply, eyes a little wide. He shook his head with a smile, though, returning to his readings. Spock just stared at him, eyes wider than they should be, then they had any right to be. And Jim frowned, squinting, he could swear there was something different about him.

"What happened?" Jim rasped, and realized there was a dryness in his throat and an IV in his arm. "When did that get there?"

McCoy snorted. "About two hours after you collapsed in the hall, when we decided we had no way of knowing when you would wake up. Spock's been acting captain for six days."

"Six days!" Jim's voice creaked in protest at his higher volume. "What...what happened? Bones, what's going on?"

"Nothing too bad." He assured, injecting something into the IV to be processed into Jim's system. "You're just sick. Turns out one of the ensigns that was charged with going through your things missed decontaminating something and you caught a pretty nasty virus. We've already created a cure and a vaccine."

Jim groaned, throwing his head back a little into the pillow. "No one else was affected?"

"Lieutenant Uhura experienced elevated internal temperatures, but she recovered quickly without the aid of the Doctor." Spock informed him curtly, still watching.

Jim sighed, relieved. "How did everything go in my absence?"

"The health inspection proceeded as scheduled with minor incident. The only notable problem on the ship is the wide spread discontent at Doctor McCoy's orders that no one is to visit with you until he is assured that you have fully recuperated."

"So how did you get in here?" Jim teased. "Abuse of the Captain's powers?"

Spock raised his eyebrow in amusement. "I did no such thing."

McCoy snorted. "No, he certainly didn't. Did you know, Jim, that Starfleet says that even as CMO and in the event of a severe biological contaminate I have no legal authority to prevent a Vulcan from being with their significant other?"

Jim glanced between them in surprise, before bursting out laughing, never mind how it hurt his throat. He coughed and wheezed a bit because of it, until finally his throat stopped spasming and gave up. McCoy gave him a gruff look, but he was nice enough to provide Jim with a cup of ice chips, which was promptly taken from him when he nearly dropped it. Jim didn't really mind Spock's fingers brushing against his lips everytime he delivered an ice cube though. The approving look McCoy was giving was moderately unsettling all the same.

Jim pulled back after a bit, when his throat seemed more cooperative. "So how am I doing? Can I go back to my room?"

"Your room is _still_ being decontaminated." McCoy smirked. "Not that that seems to be much of a problems since you've been spending so much time with Spock."

Jim didn't quite have the energy to blush. "Still? Why?"

"Being thorough." McCoy shrugged. "Ask Spock. He's the one who ordered it."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "As the contaminant was placed with Jim's items, it it not unreasonable to assume it may have spread. It is prudent to decontaminate the entirety of his room, rather then risk some item retaining the unusually resilient virus and possibly infecting other crew members."

"Mm. Very logical." Jim agreed. "I don't think anyone answered my first question..."

"You'll live." McCoy declared in much the same tone he might use to announce Jim had caught some kind of STD. "You'll be weak for a little while, but I think we can get all those tubes out of you and let you stop taking up one of my medical beds."

Jim froze, giving him a worried look. "Are you okay Bones?"

"Why wouldn't I be kid?"

"Because you just offered to release me from sickbay." Jim knew he sounded worried. "Seriously. I literally just woke up and you are letting me go? What's going on?"

McCoy rolled his eyes. "I'm releasing you from sickbay, not for duty Jim. And I'm remanding you to Spock's care."

"Whoa there." Jim protested, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "I can take care of myself."

McCoy sighed, glancing at Spock, who was being patient and not protesting. "I'm going to leave you two alone for a moment and you're going to discuss this. When I get back, I expect you to have reached a reasonable conclusion, like _adults_. Remember Jim, you currently have an IV and a catheter. You aren't going anywhere."

Jim stuck his tongue out at him, before relaxing back onto the bed because he really was still exhausted. "Look. It isn't that I don't want to be around you, I just don't need to take up any more of your time. I'm sure you've got duties to attend to. I promise I'll just go lay down and you can wake me up when you get off shift."

Spock gave him an unimpressed look. "Jim...you have been unconscious for six days."

Jim cocked his head to the side, utterly at a loss for why that was an argument, until he felt a flair of frustration through the bond. "Oh."

"Indeed." Spock gently brushed his fingers against the back of Jim's hand, before lifting it into his own carefully.

Jim smirked. "I can't believe you're such a sap. You can't even go six days without spending some time with me?"

"You were injured and-"

"And you spent every night right here, didn't you?" Jim accused softly, looking for some understanding. "Spock, you've got to stop doing that. You don't have to be with me every free second when I'm not feeling well."

Spock stared at their hands, lips pursed ever so slightly with regret. "I was negligent in-"

Jim interrupted him again. "No. You weren't. Hell, if I'd spent two more nights in your room, we probably would have never found out about it. Don't even start protesting that I should have gone back to your room that night. I can see the look on your face, I know you want to. This...staying here with me, it's above and beyond the call of best friend."

Spock closed his eyes, almost like he was in pain. "I have already begun to suspect this."

Jim furrowed his brow. "Hey. I'm not complaining. Like I said, it's..._amazing_ that you're here for me. You're one of the first and I'm not going to let you stop if I ever have a say in it. But I hate doing this to you. I can't help it when sheer dumb luck makes things go wrong. And it has a bad habit of happening around me. I don't want to upset you, and I don't want to think of how you must feel, sitting by my bedside while I'm completely non-responsive. I know, now, that I'd do the same in an instant. I'm not so sure Bones could convince me to leave for my shift, either. But..." Here Jim moved his hand, so his fingers were caressing Spock's gently. "It makes me feel selfish keeping you here."

Spock didn't open his eyes, but pulled Jim's hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles. "I do not care."

Jim sighed, letting the back of his hand run over Spock's cheek and finally figuring out why Spock looked subtly different. "Spock, you've got stubble. Just a little, but enough to tell me you probably haven't gone back to your room once. What would I do if I woke up and found out you had collapsed from the strain of watching over me? How do you think that would make me feel?"

"I did not consider this." Spock nuzzled Jim's wrist. "If you desire, you may accompany me to my room and ensure I attend to my basic needs."

Jim smirked. "You're a sneaky guy, you know that?"

Spock's eyes smiled and then he set Jim's hand down and went to retrieve the doctor. The doctor who promptly locked his ass out of the room to muffled protests. McCoy glared at the door for a moment before moving to disconnect all tubes attached to his Captain. Jim wasn't particularly enthused about that. As a rule he hated having tubes in him. The only things he hated worse was having the tubes shoved in him or taken out. It also wasn't something he particularly wanted Spock to be around for, so he was grateful for Bones' interference. He was sure his dignity had been compromised enough, he didn't need him glaring at McCoy as he pulled a catheter out.

"Did he sleep at all?" Jim asked, trying to ignore McCoy working.

"He meditated." McCoy said conversationally. "It's actually the reason I made the bet with him to wake you up. I wasn't too worried about you, I figured you'd wake up soon, but he couldn't keep that shit up. Got less sense than what god gave a goose."

Jim chuckled. "Good to know my best friend cares more about my boyfriend than me."

McCoy paused. "Don't tell me you're jealous. He's the one who sat down here. Had to give him hypos...Damn hobgoblin is so skinny he could use a clothes line as an umbrella."

"Where the heck would he get a clothes line?" Jim murmured. "Does this look like backwoods Georgia?"

"Alright. All done." Bones moved to clean up, still watching Jim from the corner of his eye. "Go back to his room, get a shower, get some sleep. You aren't going to be on duty for another couple of days. I'm giving Spock tomorrow off. By which I mean if I hear he set foot on the bridge he'll be sedated for a week."

Jim laughed, moving to stand up. "You're using your doctor's voice. You _must_ like him."

"Don't worry." McCoy smirked, heading over to help him stand. "I'm not interested in stealing your boyfriend. Might genuinely have that father-suitor talk though."

Jim wobbled a bit. "Lay off right now Bones. I'm tired. I don't feel like being teased."

… .. . .. …

For about half an hour, there was a steady stream of crew members stopping by Spock's room. Jim would have been embarrassed that everyone knew he was staying there, but it kind of seemed like a moot point. He was tired, and unclean and he wanted to cuddle up with Spock and sleep. His crew just wanted to see him though. So he obliged for a bit until Spock started standing at the door silently glaring down anyone who knocked. About ten minutes later the procession had stopped. Apparently word had gotten out that they wanted their privacy. Jim collapsed onto the couch, giving Spock a grateful smile.

"Thanks for putting up with them as long as you did."

Spock moved to stand over him. "You must rest now."

Jim nodded, raising his hands up. "Okay. I'll go get a shower."

Spock pulled him up easily. "You were exhibiting difficulty with remaining standing. Do you require assistance?"

Jim paused, leaning heavily on Spock's hands. Normally he would say no instantly, but he _was_ having difficulty standing. And it was just Spock. Spock, who had stayed with him for six days and wanted nothing more than to spend more time with him and take care of him. Jim nodded wearily and allowed Spock to lead him to the bathroom.

Spock proceeded to stand in the bathroom with his back to Jim while he showered like an absolute gentleman, there if he needed help, but unobtrusive. Jim had to admit to himself, he probably wouldn't have been as well behaved. There was such a burning curiosity about Spock that Jim didn't want to ever take his eyes off of him. Not even just about his body or anything. He just wanted to see him in every situation. He wanted to know if Spock kept his eyes closed when he washed his hair, or the pattern he used to wash himself. Most people had a pattern. Did he start with his chest? Or did he wash his face first? Maybe his right arm? He wanted to know everything there was to know. Even the stupid stuff that didn't matter.

Spock was right there with a towel the second Jim shut off the shower, even though it had been on the sonic setting, wrapping Jim up like he were a little kid. His eyes never left Jim's.

"I'm starting to think you don't like my body." Jim teased as he was lead towards the bed.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "It is illogical to-"

Jim cut him off with a chuckle. "So that's a no, you don't like my body." He mock sobbed. "I might as well just give up on it. What does it matter if my boyfriend doesn't think I'm hot?"

Spock pushed Jim down to sit. "You are ascetically pleasing Jim. I will retrieve clothing for you to rest in."

Jim beamed, tucking the towel around himself a little more. "Do I get to watch you shower?"

"No." Spock turned around, handing him the clothing. "I will return shortly."

Jim stood up, tossing to towel sideways with very little concern. He was minutely glad that he had left some of his night clothes in Spock's room, because as fun as it was wearing his clothes, he wasn't going to wear Spock's underwear and that generally meant he probably shouldn't wear his pants either. Propriety and all that. Jim felt a curl of apprehension in the back of his head and frowned. He hadn't realized the bond was still open. It was...comforting. He liked having that channel, and hadn't been at all bothered by Spock's presence in his mind. He doubted Spock was bothered either, other wise he'd have shielded. It occurred to him, a second later, that Spock had probably been using the bond to check on him while he was on shift.

Jim felt warm and amused and incredibly affectionate just then. And there was a spike of confusion from Spock. That just made Jim more embarrassed and happy. Damn it. He tried to squash the feeling. He felt so warm, his chest filled with some strange feeling, some appreciation. Jim curled on his side, trying to reign in the feeling in his chest, but it just blossomed in him, spreading. He really, really wanted Spock there next to him _now_.

It was only a moderate surprise when he felt Spock kneel on the bed behind him within a minute. Apparently he decided that whatever he was getting from the bond was significantly more important than finishing his shower. He was about three minutes faster than usual. Jim sighed contently when Spock gently rubbed his shoulder, before settling behind him. Spock wrapped a warm arm around his waist, pulling him closer and nuzzling the back of his neck. Jim wanted something more, but he wasn't sure what that was.

"Rest for now." Spock murmured into his skin. "I will be here."

Jim nodded. "I know."

When he woke again, he was half wrapped around Spock. It was a brief thing, and he was out again like a light. For a guy who had been asleep for six days, he was exhausted.

It must have been several hours later, when he next woke, because he was curled up on Spock's chest, and Spock was awake, but relaxed. Spock was gently carding his fingers through his hair, one hand rubbing his back pleasantly. Jim snuggled against his chest, feeling content. Spock halted his movements and shifted like he was looking down at Jim. Jim grinned against his chest, but remained perfectly still. He wasn't getting up yet. Spock was lean and warm and _pleasant_. Jim was going to see about making him a permanent pillow.

"Are you well?" Spock murmured, and Jim nodded because he knew he wasn't going to get away with pretending to be asleep.

"Comfy too." He added, just in case Spock was getting any ideas about moving him.

"Good." Spock's chest rumbled as he spoke.

Jim shifted so he could look up at Spock. "What about you?"

"I am adequate." Spock's hand snaked down to squeeze Jim's hip.

Jim hummed in appreciation of the act. "Are we getting out of bed any time soon?"

"Not if you do not desire to do so." Spock let his fingers dance up, ghosting over Jim's ticklish spot for only a second. "I may request one of the crew bring us nourishment."

Jim chuckled, leaning up to kiss him. "Pretty sure this is all I need right now."

Spock pulled him a little closer, flush against him. "As you wish Jim."

Jim grinned, moving to kiss Spock's neck. "Feels good. I think I'm still a little out of it. Everything's...hazy."

"You will recover." Spock flipped them over, so he was leaning over Jim. "Inform me of what you need or desire."

"I don't know." Jim admitted.

Spock hesitated a moment, before placing a kiss on Jim's neck. He was careful as he moved down, lips ghosting over his collar bone, down his sternum, down to the ticklish spot below his ribs. Jim stared at him in wonder, reaching down to tangle his fingers in his too neat hair. Spock sucked gently at the spot and Jim groaned, throwing his head back. It was a very nice sensation. He could feel strange hesitation from the bond, but it was quashed quickly with immense curiosity. Spock rubbed his thumbs against the flesh just above Jim's pants, cataloging the gooseflesh that rose in response. Jim let out a shaky breath.

Spock's breathing was warm and steady on his stomach as he fluttered soft, curious kisses back up towards Jim's neck. Jim felt like he was melting. He also felt impatient, and pulled Spock the rest of the way back up, crushing their lips together. He let his hands wander down Spock's back, absolutely relishing the way it moved. He could feel the flesh pull and shift over tight muscles, never tense with him. He didn't know when the desire to touch started, but he was relishing it now that he was getting the chance to fulfill it.

The kiss was languid, making the bond positively glow. Spock shifted against him, pulling him up closer. Jim gasped at the sensation, grip on Spock tightening.

"More." Jim whispered nervously, stomach trembling.

Spock leaned down to his throat, teeth scraping gently over his pulse point. "What do you desire?"

Jim whimpered. "I don't know."

"I can not assist you if you do not know what you desire." Spock bit his collar, and Jim writhed in surprise.

Jim dug his nails into Spock's shoulder blades. "I...I think I want...Ah...I think you're doing great on your own."

Spock smirked, an honest to god smirk, against his skin. "I see."

"What do _you_ want?" Jim groaned as Spock sucked on the skin at his collar, worrying the mark his teeth left with his lips.

"I do not know." Spock froze, leaning back to look Jim in the eyes. "I am well beyond my area of expertise. If you are a willing participant, however, I would be willing to conduct sufficient experiments to determine the nature of both of our desires and the most logical course of action to fulfill them."

Jim didn't know what he was about to get himself into, but he nodded eagerly all the same. Spock hesitated only a moment before leaning in to kiss him. Jim knew he should probably be a little less comfortable with the gesture. Guys didn't kiss their best friends like that. In fact, he was pretty sure only Orions kissed their best friends like that. And sure, Jim had gotten used to it because of the bond, but that just highlighted how weird it should have been. He was _engaged_ to this man. Jim was going to have to admit to himself that he was making out with his fiance eventually.

Once Spock stopped leaving bright red hickeys on his neck.

Jim pushed at Spock's shoulder and he allowed him to roll them half way. Jim took the opportunity to bite Spock's ear. It was _fun_. Spock didn't seem to mind all that much, hands running up and down Jim's chest. Jim licked his way down until he could bite Spock's neck. Spock's hands scrabbled at him for a moment, perhaps out of surprise. The bite left a fierce green bruise on his neck and Jim wondered if his uniform would cover it. Spock made a rumbling sound and dug his fingers into Jim's sides.

"Spock." Jim gasped. "Spock. Spock please."

"What Jim?" Spock dragged him closer.

"I don't know." Jim whimpered, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his chest.

Spock rubbed his hands over his back, soothing him. "Relax."

Jim sighed, melting against him. He tangled their limbs as well he could, resting his head on his shoulder. His heart was throbbing in his chest, and Jim felt like he was about to enter a firefight. Spock pressed a kiss to his temple, first with his lips and then with his fingers. He wrapped himself contently around Jim, and for the life of him he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He sank back into sleep feeling blissful and alright in his skin.

… .. . .. …

"Oh my god."

Jim blinked wearily, distinctly aware of the female voice coming from a few feet away. He didn't quite feel like sitting up, still a little out of it.

"I do not wish to discuss this Nyota." Spock's voice was hard, quiet.

"I'm sure." Uhura sounded amused. "Are you going to need a dermal regenerator for that?"

"No." Spock didn't sound amused.

"Is he going to need a dermal regenerator?" She didn't sound convinced.

Spock made a noise in the back of his throat. "He will not. Is there further reason for your visit?"

"McCoy asked me to bring you some food." She sounded amused. "Should I go get anything else from him? Maybe lubricant?"

Jim felt a wave of pure embarrassment from the bond and could hear Spock growl. "Jim is a close and respected friend, Nyota. He and I are not, nor have we ever been engaged in a sexual relationship. It has been made abundantly clear that our relationship is purely platonic in nature. Your insinuations are insulting and unjust."

"Right." She didn't sound insulted, but she wasn't quite as cheery. "I apologize. Obviously it's unfair to accuse the man who left _those_ kind of marks on you as being anything more than a friend. I know you can be incredibly dense at times for such a smart man, but I'm convinced that you're _trying_ to lie to yourself now. You don't want to confront what ever is happening here, but you can't deny something is happening. And I'll be damned to let you used this bond as an excuse to ignore it."

Jim was sitting up straight now, his heart thundering, but he tried to keep himself calm. Tired to keep his emotions calm.

"Enough." He snarled. "Leave."

There was a long pause, and then Uhura's voice replied softly. "I care about you. You are my friends. Don't forget that."

The door slid shut and Spock marched back to the bed. He froze when he saw Jim sitting up. Jim's heart leapt into his throat. There was something about Spock standing there, in loose night pants and a short sleeved shirt, a shining green bite mark on his neck, and a tray of food in his hands that screamed of a domestic nature. Thoughts of domesticating his first officer were pushed aside, however, because they were awkward and weird. Spock set the food down with a blank look on his face.

"You were listening to my conversation with Nyota."

Jim gave him a guilty little smile. "Yeah...uh...sorry."

"There is no need to apologize. As the discussion pertained to you, you have the right to be privy to it." Spock sat gently on the edge of the bed. "I apologize if it made you uncomfortable."

Jim shook his head. "No. It's fine...Heh. I guess Chekov's finally starting to get to them."

Spock stared at him, quiet. Jim wasn't entirely sure it was the right thing to say. He wasn't really sure what he should say, if there even was a right thing to be said. But his eyes fell to the bite and he found himself reaching out. Spock hissed, ever so slightly, as Jim pressed his fingers to the wound. He could feel the ache from his own bites, the dull sting Spock left in his skin. Spock reached up to catch Jim's hand and he expected Spock to twine their fingers together, but he simply removed his hand.

"I am unsure that is wise, Captain."

Jim tensed. "Captain?"

"No matter the supposed logic of our actions, we are furthering a misunderstanding we desired to correct." Spock said softly. "I can not accept your affections, no matter how platonic they may be."

"Bullshit." Jim snarled.

"Captain-"

"Fuck you." Jim stood up, ignoring the food. "Give up. Change who you are to be what everyone expects of you. Fine. I'm _done_ giving up on the things I want. I don't care if our friendship doesn't fit into their little neat categories and I sure as hell don't care if they don't understand us. I _like_ what we have, even if it doesn't make sense to me. And you can't tell me that you don't. I know better. I can feel how much this, how much _us_, means to you. So if you want to spend the next three weeks staying away from me, distancing yourself so everyone believes our 'relationship' is over, than fine. But then what? What do you do afterwords? Only spend time with me in the rec room and during our shifts? Screw that. We'll find some other way to make our relationship clear, but I won't let them change what we have here. I refuse to."

Spock stood slowly, eyes locked on him. "If we change nothing about our interactions, we will be incapable of convincing others of the cessation of our supposed romantic relationship."

"We're geniuses." Jim challenged. "We'll figure something out."

Spock exhaled sharply, terse. "The statistical likelihood-"

"Statistics! What possible fucking statistics could you even have for this situation? I don't care about the statistics." Jim snarled. "They're bull and you know it."

"Captain-"

"Call me that again. I dare you." Jim stepped into his space, eyes narrowed.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "You are behaving illogically."

He didn't call him Captain though. Jim surged forward, crashing his lips into Spock's. Spock pushed back, walking Jim to the wall and pinning him there. He could feel frustration and confusion and _anger_ through the bond. He understood that completely. Spock was no longer being a gentleman, digging his fingers into Jim's hips and lifting him. Jim wrapped his legs around his torso, because it reduced the ungodly pressure from Spock's hands. He gasped when Spock slid his hands down his legs, pressing him harder to the wall to keep him up. Definitely not a gentleman as he pressed his tongue into Jim's mouth. Jim was never one to sit idle though, pulling on Spock's hair with one hand to better angle his mouth.

Jim's other hand was roving over Spock's chest and shoulder and he wasn't sure if he was looking for purchase or not. He managed to get the nightshirt Spock had pulled on before answering the door hiked up fairly well though. Spock shrugged out of it one arm at a time, before finally breaking the kiss so Jim could pull it over his head. Spock leaned back in panting, and Jim tossed his head to remove the sweat dripping to his eyes. Spock brushed his mouth over Jim's jaw, rubbing their temples together and moving down to mouth at his shoulder. Jim gasped against his temple, tangled his fingers in his hair and arched himself so their chests were pressed together. Spock's heart in his side thundered and Jim could feel it, like butterfly wings in his stomach.

"Spock." Jim pleaded. "Spock please. Please. I want this."

He could feel Spock's Adam's apple bob against the skin of his shoulder. "I do not know what you are asking of me."

Jim groaned. "Fuck. I don't know either. I just...Fuck."

Spock leaned back to look at him. "Our actions are illogical Jim."

"Oh, so it's Jim now? Ah!" Jim squirmed when Spock bit him in reprimand. "Is it illogical if we're doing something we like?"

"We are not in an intimate, physical relationship."

Jim shrugged. "Well...if you're going by the paperwork...Fuck! Don't bite me so hard!"

Spock leaned back, licking his lips to clear Jim's sweat from them. "Do not present illogical arguments. The paperwork was created to further a lie. We are not in an intimate, physical relationship and the bond no longer requires physical contact to satiate your lack of telepathic capabilities. Nor are we attempting to present such a relationship for the benefit of either party at this juncture. To engage in behavior reserved exclusively for intimate relations is illogical. To desire such contact is illogical."

Jim huffed and folded his arms over his chest, relaxing back against the wall, which he only just realized was colder than he'd like. "Why is it reserved for intimate relations? It's not like it has to mean something like that. It didn't when we were just keeping the bond happy, why should it now?"

"Because our actions were done out of necessity." Spock furrowed his brow a little. "It is illogical to perform such actions for the sake of pleasure."

Jim shivered and Spock pulled him back from the wall, lacing his hands under him to offer support. Jim threw his arms around his neck, so he didn't lean back and topple over.

"_Why_?" Jim pressed. "Give me one good reason why. If you say the only reason to do something like this is to express gratitude and affection in a relationship, then you've lost. Because the motivation is reassurance of _some_ kind of bond and its not about pleasure."

"Jim-"

"And if we _happen_ to derive pleasure from knowing a close friend cares, then that's only _logical_." He locked his fingers behind Spock's head. "You wouldn't be in a friendship that was not beneficial and enjoyable. Not a friendship. It would be an illogical thing to do."

"Jim..." Spock's tone darkened, hardened.

He slid Jim's legs down, so he was standing. "If it already doesn't have to mean something intimate then why should be find a different way to express our regard for each other?"

"Jim!" Spock rumbled, pulling him flush against him. "I-"

Jim steamrolled right over him. "So why does it have to be a strictly intimate gesture?"

"Because I wish it to be!" Spock snapped.

Jim froze, eyes widening. "I...I-"

Spock surged forward, kissing him deeply, before yanking himself back with a low growl. "I do not _desire_ to engage in these acts with you Jim, but I am incapable of denying myself the pleasure I derive from your touch. It is illogical and shameful that I lack the control to cease these activities at once." He punctuated his sentences with swift, bruising kisses. "I find myself experiencing the _human_ sensation of craving your lips against mind and the insistent press of your mind against every one of my barriers. I allow myself to monopolize your affections in an unhealthy and unacceptable way. I have found myself developing a dependency on these disgraceful, flagrant displays. I have experienced difficulty in meditating and in controlling my emotions in their absence."

"Withdrawal." Jim provided helpfully, a little overwhelmed.

Spock growled against his lips. "To behave in such a disreputable manner is licentious. No matter our own causation, the act itself is intimate in nature. There are acts suitable for the expression of affection between friends. If our actions were fulled only by this, if our pleasure derived only by confirmation of mutual _friendship_ then these acts would prove enough."

Jim growled right back, nipping at Spock's lips. "It's friendly. Just because the thought of being friendly makes you uncomfortable doesn't mean anything."

"And yet you expressed difficulty the first time you kissed me because it was not a friendly gesture." Spock argued. "It was a gesture used to cultivate intimacy and physical pleasure."

Jim snarled, yanking himself out of Spock's arms entirely and folding his arms over his chest. "That's not the point! It isn't the same thing. What do you want me to do to prove that?"

Spock raised a dangerous eyebrow, locking his hands at his back, voice frigged. "I believe the Terran phrase is 'blow me'."

Jim's jaw dropped. "_Excuse me_?"

Spock's eyes flicked over Jim, appraising. "Is this not just another expression of affection, fondness, and gratitude?"

"That's different!" Jim bellowed.

"Why?" Spock challenged, voice still cool and revealing nothing, just as the bond was silent, shielded.

"That...you..." Jim laughed, on the verge of hysterics. "I'm _not_ going to have sex with you! I don't fuck friends."

"Then do not kiss me."

"Oh, so now we're negotiating?"

"I am attempting to explain to you what you will not accept with reason alone." Spock didn't look all too happy to be doing it. "Our actions have been intimate in nature."

Jim laughed, scrubbing at his face. "I guess that's it."

He turned on his heel, heading to Spock's dresser to snag one of the black undershirts he kept there, a clean one. Spock furrowed his brow slightly, watching Jim with confusion. Jim was biting the inside of his lip to keep himself from speaking. Spock didn't say anything as Jim stormed out of the room. He stared after the door a moment before turning away. The tray of food sat on his bed mocking him. He backhanded it into the wall.

… .. . .. …

"Kirk!" Sulu rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Jim's torso to keep him from falling. "Captain, what are you doing?"

Jim tried to push himself up the wall, but ended up having to rely on Sulu instead. "I'm heading to sickbay."

Sulu glanced over at Chekov, who moved to support Jim from his other side. "Vhy are you heading to sickbay?"

"Because my room is in lock down." Jim growled like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

They exchanged another glance across Jim's chest. "Weren't you...ah...staying with Spock?"

Jim tensed. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But-" Chekov started.

"Look." Jim snarled. "Either leave it alone or let me walk to sickbay on my own."

There was a terse moment of silence before they started walking. Jim was unsteady on his feet, the exhaustion coming back like a tidal wave. He felt cold, in the normal temperature of the ship, wrong. McCoy glanced up from whatever he was doing when they entered the room, eyes instantly widening. He was by Jim with a tricorder in a second, but it didn't tell him anything useful that he didn't already know. Jim felt like his vision was swimming and hardly noticed Sulu straighten in alarm and start tugging Chekov out of the room.

"What happened?" McCoy directed him to a bed. "Jim, what happened?"

"I..." Jim choked. "It doesn't matter. Can I stay here?"

"Jim..." McCoy's voice was soft. "Jim, you're crying."

"It's nothing." Jim gulped, wiping at his eyes. "Please. Please just let me stay here."

"Sure kid." McCoy felt guilty as all hell. "I'll...Jim...what the hell it that?"

He reached over, tugging down the collar of Jim's shirt and his eyes widened with horror. Jim blushed, curling in on himself and shaking his head. So Bones didn't ask, just grabbed a dermal regenerator and helped pull off his shirt. Jim hadn't gotten a look at his chest, but by the tight lipped stare, he suspected that was a good thing. McCoy left briefly, before returning with a damp wash cloth. Jim couldn't help but notice that it came back from each painful swipe a little more reddish-brown. He hadn't seen any blood before, so he supposed a couple must have ripped open when he was pushing at them when he first started towards sickbay.

"Say the word and he's dead." McCoy whispered, voice tight.

Jim shook his head. "No."

Bones didn't press the issue, instead working to heal the damage he found. And if Jim just happened to cover the mark on his collarbone with his hand and not remove it when the rest of the wounds were healed, well, McCoy didn't press that issue either. He eyed the bruises critically for a moment, but made no effort to deal with them. He left him in a private bed to sleep, collecting a few medical devices and slinking out of sickbay silently.

A few minutes later he was chiming at Spock's door. There was absolutely no wait; Spock flung the door open, tense. McCoy felt guilty, at the helpless look Spock momentarily let slip. He stepped aside silently to let him in. McCoy eyed the angry green bite on his neck as he did, looking him over for any other signs of injury or discomfort. Spock hadn't even put a shirt back on yet.

"After I patched Jim up, I figured you might need a dermal regenerator too." McCoy explained. "He didn't do as much damage as I would have figured."

Spock stiffened, eyes widening, lips pressed in a tight line. "Explain."

"He was bleeding in a few places." McCoy surveyed the sudden shut down of _all_ expression. "I doubt it's entirely your fault...If he wanted I would have been down here to poison your ass. But no, he's being quiet about it. I supposed I should offer you the same."

Spock glanced sideways, and McCoy narrowed his eyes, wondering at his stiff, awkward way of shifting. "Do not feign propriety on my behalf doctor."

McCoy snarled. "Damn you! Don't you start with this like Jim and pretend you don't have friends on this ship."

His shoulders tensed. "I did not mean to accuse you of such."

"I don't supposed you have any more light to shine on this?" McCoy watched him move to remain facing him. "Didn't think so. If there's nothing else to say here, then I guess I'll leave."

"Doctor." Spock tensed. "I...would be remiss if I allowed you to leave without attending my wounds."

"Wounds?"

Spock hesitated, before turning. McCoy grit his teeth, eyes narrowing at the long, bloody gashes in his back. He wasn't so naïve not to recognize them for what they were, but he wondered how long it had taken them to bleed, because Jim's fingers had been completely free of any traces of green. McCoy cleaned his shoulders off, relieved to see the scratches weren't all that deep. They looked like they had been agitated to the point of bleeding, most likely by slumping against the wall. McCoy wasn't going to accuse him of slumping at this point.

"So will you tell me what happened? Not to get these. I don't think I want to know about that." McCoy took his time, stalling in the hope that Spock might actually start talking.

"I do not wish to discuss it."

"What do you _wish_ to discuss?" McCoy snorted.

Spock shifted awkwardly. "Could you convey an expression of regret and apology to Nyota?"

"Not if you aren't going to tell me what I'm apologizing on your behalf for. I'm a doctor, not a candy-gram."

Spock was silent long enough he actually thought he had decided against it. "I expressed...displeasure with her assessment of my relationship with the Captain."

McCoy paused. "And what would that be?"

"That is not necessary information."

Gears were turning though. "She saw the bite mark when she brought the food I asked her to. Knowing her, she wanted to be positively sure...and when it turned out that you two _aren't_ in a romantic relationship, she got upset."

"It would seem..." Spock hesitated. "You are at times capable of not entirely erroneous deductions doctor."

McCoy snorted. "Jim heard and got antsy?"

"No." Spock didn't elaborate, so for the second time McCoy decided not pressing the issue would be most beneficial at the moment.

He collected his gear when he was finished, not even having considered fixing the bite mark. "You already know this, but I'm going to remind you anyway. You're off work tomorrow. Don't even think about reporting to the bridge." McCoy hesitated, before nodding firmly to him. "We don't talk much, but I'm still here if that's what you need. Friend to friend confidentiality."

"Thank you...Leonard."

… .. . .. …

"Rise and shine Jimmy boy." Bones beamed at him in a way that really wasn't fair.

"Leave me alone." Jim groaned. "I'm _sick_."

"Not anymore you aren't." He chuckled, yanking the blanket off of him. "You're restricted because of the exhaustion, not because you're sick. Because we all know you'd spend three days awake on the bridge if you could right after every crisis."

Jim made a vaguely rude gesture as he struggled up. He rubbed at his face a bit, frowning at the slight roughness of his skin. He was going to need to do some manicuring in a week or he'd start to get scruffy. A shower and some lotion would be a big help. He did feel better. Significantly better than when he had lost consciousness, and marginally better than the day before. Well, he thought grimly, better except for the twisting guilt and disgruntlement that made itself known now that he was fully awake.

"Do you think I could get back on the bridge tomorrow?" Jim asked, already braced for the glare, and boy did he get it. "Just light duty Bones. Sp-Uhura will be there to keep an eye on me."

Bones' eyes tightened at the aborted use of the commander's name. "We'll see how you're feeling at the end of the day."

Jim beamed, before forcing himself to his feet. "Hey Bones, I need a couple things, and then I'm going to take my breakfast in the rec room, is that okay?"

Bones eyed him for a moment. "What things?"

"Just some paper and a pen." Jim waved him off.

"Why not used a PADD?" McCoy frowned. "What could you possibly need that for?"

Jim shrugged. "Just a hobby from the academy. You don't want me trying to find another way to entertain myself for the day, do you? Because I'm sure I could think of something...or I could always ask Scotty for ideas."

He blanched. Nothing Jim could do with a piece of paper could possible be that bad. He ordered Jim to stay put while he replicated the items, to ensure that none of them could be fashioned into a weapon. Not that Jim couldn't get his hands on a weapon, but somehow it seemed more likely that he would just make on out of the nearest items. Jim thanked him just a little too enthusiastically and asked him to send Rand over with something edible when she got the chance. The fact that he was letting McCoy handle his dietary needs was nothing less than terrifying. That had to be at least a yellow alert.

Rand also took the opportunity to immediately tell McCoy that Jim hadn't protested about the vegan meal he had been give, tucking in and focusing intently on his papers.

So probably closer to a red alert.

And then he was getting reports that Spock wasn't leaving his room or accepting food from yeomen so he had to just shake his head and sigh. He'd go hypo him after his shift. Because he could give him that long, at least, as a courtesy. And then he'd give them both hell for being such stubborn, stupid, baffling idiots. But he was still hedging his bets and believing Jim and Spock would just have to work this out on their own, because they couldn't stay mad at each other that long.

… .. . .. …

"Uhura, please!" Jim let just the slightest bit of whine tinge his voice.

She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see it. "Captain. I'm working."

"I know." Jim huffed. "That's the problem. I'm not allowed on the bridge, and I really need you here right now."

She pursed her lips, considering it. "What could possibly be so important that you want me to leave my post, Captain?"

There was a long hesitation, before Jim came back with a slightly conspiratorially tone. "My relationship with Spock?"

She was on her feet, directing her replacement to take over immediately. "I'll be there in five minutes."

Uhura set foot in the deserted rec room 4.58 minutes later. Jim beamed at her, before waving her over with a suspicious look. He peered around for a little, before placing his communicator on the table. He watched her expectantly until Uhura set her own next to his. He seemed to relax immensely, and she wondered just what it was he wanted to discuss with her. Her eyes scanned over the table, noticing the piles of crumpled paper and ink stains. She assumed they were from the same pen Jim was chewing absently at. He reached up and rubbed his lips, smearing a blot of ink at the corner of his mouth.

"I need you to translate something for me." Jim said seriously.

Uhura cocked an eyebrow. "That was worth dragging me down before my shift was over?"

"Your shift ends the same time as Bones'." Jim shrugged, try to act casual. "I kind of want to get a jump on this, before he can banish me back to sickbay."

She considered it for a moment, tapping her fingers impatiently on the table. "Is what's going on between you and Spock my fault?"

Jim shook his head immediately. "No. It's our own damn fault."

"What does this translation have to do with you and Spock?" She pressed. "Did he say something?"

"No. I..." He hesitated, sure he didn't want to tell her the entire true story. "I saw it somewhere and I was curious. I...well, something Sulu said actually made me kind of realize that I haven't been trying to accommodate him at all, so I'm a shitty friend. This...text? Just made me think about it. And then with everything, well...I decided...that is, I was sort of hoping you would agree to try to teach me Vulcan."

Uhura straightened in her seat, eyes brightening just a little. "If that's all, then sure. I might not have gotten along with you, but I remember how fast you picked up languages at the Academy."

Jim gave a grimacing smile. "Yeah. Well, I remember enough to get myself slapped most of the time."

She smirked, clearly remembering those incidents fondly. "Now I'm really curious though. What Vulcan text did you see?"

Jim passed her a messy, ink stained paper covered in a multitude of swirls. "I think I wrote that down right, but I could be way off. It's been a little while since I looked at it."

Uhura whistled lowly. "I always was a little impressed by the way you could snap an image of some text in your head and then copy it without being able to write a word in the language." Jim flushed at the praise. "Well, lets see what you have here."

She glanced over it a moment before rolling her eyes and flipping the paper over, flattening it on the table so the words showed through the paper clearly. Jim shrugged at her inquisitive look, but wasn't all that surprised that it had been backwards. After all, it had sort of been written that way. Her brow furrowed at the sight in front of her and she leaned closer to the paper, scowling. Jim played idly with his glasses, which had mysteriously shown up in sickbay a few days ago apparently.

"Where did you even see this?" Uhura finally leaned back, misgivings clear on her face.

Jim flushed, lying through his teeth. "I just saw it in a book."

"In a mirror?" She scoffed. "Right. If you don't want to tell me, than fine."

Jim straightened in apprehension at the predatory smile on her face. "What? What is it?"

Uhura leaned back, smugness radiating from her as she folded her arms over her chest. "Well for starters, it's Pre-Surakian. If nothing else you can tell because of how flowery it is."

"Flowery?" He gulped, mouth dry.

"Quite. But that's pretty typical of very old Vulcan poetry." Here she leaned forwards a little, small smile broadening. "Especially _love_ poems."

Jim flushed, letting that bang around in his head a little. "Oh."

Uhura nodded, gesturing to the paper flippantly. "That is a very old love poem, half religious practically. It talks about love as a transcending thing, more than just an emotion. Before Surakian times, it wouldn't have been much different than human wedding vows. It's...deep."

Jim felt like his brain had shut off, but something caught well enough he could force a sentence out. "All that in those few lines?"

It was her turn to blush. "Well, no, but I recognize the poem and I know how it ends."

Jim send her a sidelong look, because it put off having to think about her previous statement. "And just how and why were you reading sappy old Vulcan poetry?"

Uhura narrowed her eyes. "While they pride themselves on logic, Vulcan's aren't ashamed of their art. You could find it in several poetry books."

Jim grinned. "You were totally reading this mush and swooning over Commander Spock when you were at the academy."

She had to smile, in spite of herself. "Yeah, well, clearly I was projecting the image of some romantic, emotional Vulcan archetype that doesn't exist anymore. Not even in private. Can you imagine that? Spock being a romantic?"

Jim flushed, glancing down at the paper guiltily. "No. That'd be weird."

He wasn't sure why she let that go, but he was grateful that she did. Uhura spent the next few hours, until her lunch, chatting amicably with him and teaching him a few 'important' Vulcan phrases. She did inform him curtly that she wasn't going to spend the second half of her shift with him, no matter how much he begged and pleaded. He reasoned that that was okay, because now he was really hoping to set things right. He'd been a dick. And while that wasn't really that unusual for him, he didn't have to be that guy anymore.

And he finally mustered up the self-decency to admit that maybe there was something weird about their making out. Now he was fairly positive of it.

He still took as long as he possibly could with eating and dawdled around talking with his crew more than strictly necessary. Somehow, even with this revelation, and the admission that he really had no right to be mad at Spock for once again pointing out everything Jim did that was illogical, irresponsible, or otherwise just not up to par, he didn't really want to go admit that.

He spent about an hour drafting an apology before he realized that the second he walked through that door he was in the dark and couldn't predict his own actions, let alone Spock's.

He was so utterly screwed and he sincerely hoped that Spock would decide Jim was just too illogical to stay mad at and forgive him. He was getting lonely in his head and wanted the indulgent little smile in his eyes and the soft, calm feel of his mind, intrinsically linked to his katra, always brushing against his own. Maybe that was a little sappy. But Jim was also just barely brave enough to allow the mutinous parts of his brain to admit that maybe he wouldn't be all that unhappy if Spock was willing to forgive him with a kiss, whatever the hell it meant between them now.

The first step to that, however, was actually mustering up enough courage to walk himself over there and ask Spock to be willing to see him and listen to a wild and completely improvised apology.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**Did you spot the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference? It's okay if you didn't.**

**Next chapter is probably going to be the last, unless I decide on an epilogue. I'm not a big fan of those though...**


	10. Chapter 10

**I still don't own Star Trek. Really. Hard to believe, hu?**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

"Ni'droi'ik Nar-tor."

Jim felt like he was going to faint. Spock was staring at him, eyes blown wide. He was close to hyperventilating, because Spock hadn't acknowledged that he said anything. Jim sincerely hoped that he hadn't misremembered that, because the only thing worse than Spock just not acknowledging his apology would be him completely flubbing it and saying either incomprehensible gibberish or some manner of insulting thing. He was hoping for gibberish, because then he could at least claim he was tongue-tied. Tongue-tied might qualify for pathetic and cute enough to get his apology accepted.

"I was unaware you knew any of the Vulcan language." Spock seemed stunned.

Jim was too, but his mouth seemed desperately to want to be of use. "I asked Uhura. I wanted to apologize right and I didn't know what to say and I thought maybe things would go better. And I thought I was speaking gibberish when you looked at me like that and I'm sorry. I really hope I said that right and I don't know-"

"You are rambling." Spock told him.

Jim flushed. "I know."

Spock hesitated a moment, before stepping aside, gesturing for Jim to enter. He hadn't accepted Jim's apology yet, and that was making him incredibly nervous. Jim started pacing as soon as the door shut, thumb rubbing nervously over his collar, through his shirt. The mark there stung, but it was a little grounding. Spock reached out during one of his passes, catching his wrist easily. Jim spun around from his own momentum, nearly over balancing and having to catch Spock's shoulder to keep from falling.

Spock stared at him a little longer, before glancing away. "I too should apologize for my actions. I am sorry Jim."

Jim patted his shoulder awkwardly, smiling tightly. "So...are we...better?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I do not believe we have finished our discussion...however, we are...better."

Jim shrugged a little, smoothing the fabric of Spock's turtleneck. And wasn't that interesting. He almost missed it, because it seemed perfectly normal for Spock to wear something like that, and it was black. A smile, a real smile, crept up his face though, because he knew why Spock was covering his neck. Spock cocked his head to the side, not at all understanding the shy, amused look he was receiving.

"I'm gong to make an important and logical argument now." Jim mumbled, eyes dancing with mischief. "If you're willing, we can try to talk about this like adults. Though maybe we keep our clothes on?"

Spock raised both eyebrows, unimpressed. "That should not prove to be a difficulty."

Jim grinned and moved over to the couch. Spock followed, and only hesitated a moment before taking a seat next to him. It wasn't quite as comfortable as it should be, but Jim could tell, they were going to be alright.

"Okay...so..." Jim straightened himself, let himself sink into negotiations. "I say we scrap any conclusions we've come to at this point. We were working with erroneous data. We should start all over, do everything from the start. Compile data, run experiments, everything. We don't allow any preconceived notions or external cataloging interfere. We just gather the data exactly as it, in every capacity, and we draw our conclusions from that at the end. No trying to influence the outcome, no holding back."

Spock furrowed his brow ever so slightly, the barest hint of a pout in the corners of his lips. "I do not understand. What experiment are we conducting?"

"Our relationship."

Spock stiffened, but allowed himself to consider it long enough that a thoughtful look crept up in his eyes. "You are suggesting we act in whatever manner we desire, until we have composed enough correlating evidence to allow sufficient identification of our wants and needs in relation to each other."

"Exactly." Jim leaned back, letting his knee bump against Spock's, waving one hand almost dismissively. "We don't care about what labels are normally attributed to what we do, we just diligently record it and later we can sort out what it might mean. I mean, you sort of suggested it first. I'm just saying we take it a little more seriously."

"That is logical." Spock acquiesced quickly. "There will be some difficulty due to the crews perceptions, but it is unlikely to be consequential. Our behavior in solitude is more likely to show relevant findings."

"Awesome." Jim grinned. "So...uh...how are you doing?"

Spock gave him the entirely unconvinced eyebrow raise, before wrapping his hand around the back of his neck and pulling him over for a kiss. Jim groaned happily, shifting himself on the couch so he was half draped over him. He clamped his mouth shit tightly, when Spock started to tickle him, to keep from laughing. This proved entirely ineffective when Spock tugged on his lip with his teeth. Jim burst out laughing, and was silenced with a warm, wet kiss. Jim tugged Spock's hand out from under his shirt and settled into his lap so he could, with both wrists in hand, pin Spock's arms above his head. They were both keenly aware of how little good that would do if Spock decided he didn't like the position anymore.

"Mm." Jim pulled back a little, trying to talk through fluttering little kisses. "This...mm...this definitely...definitely...works for me."

"I find you are ubiquitously prone to superfluous verbosity and prolixity at inopportune times." Spock puffed out an annoyed breath against his lips.

Jim threw his head back laughing. "You just accused _me_ of talking to much?"

Spock scowled at him behind his indifferent mask for a good minute. "Affirmative."

Jim grinned. "Shut up and kiss me."

Spock obliged him. Jim shifted how he was sitting so he could feel Spock's heart beating against his stomach. There was something about the rapid, fluttering tempo that made him a little light headed. Spock didn't seem to mind the way he arched against him, letting his fingers gently knead into the arch of his back. Jim felt him massage his muscles like that, and he squirmed. He wasn't even sure when he had let go of his wrists.

"Okay." Jim breathed out shakily. "You can take your shirt off now."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "You indicated a desire for our clothes to remain on."

Jim thought maybe Spock was trying to kill him with that teasing. "During the discussion. Discussion 's over now."

"Indeed." Spock jerked Jim's shirt up and off in one swift motion.

Jim laughed. "I think you've done that too many times during missions."

It was true, too. Jim was well aware of how often he got corrosive, poisonous, or otherwise troublesome liquids on his shirt. Spock had always been pretty quick to get him out of it, too. All things considered, it was a surprise that nothing had really gone wrong during their little exploration camping trip.

Spock wasn't really listening to Jim, eyes riveted on the bruised, reddened skin of his collar bone. His breathing had taken a slightly harsh turn, eyes incredibly hard and steely. It made Jim warm and uncomfortable, so he made an attempt to pull Spock's shirt off. Spock was frozen in place though, so he only got so far with the motion before he had to give up. Jim scowled, slapping his hand over the mark to cover it. Spock snapped his head up, a momentarily dangerous look in his eyes that he quickly reigned in. Jim fought down the grin at the deep green blush all over his face, fixing an annoyed look in place.

"Are you going to take your shirt off or am I going to have to enjoy a little me time?"

Spock nearly busted him in the nose he moved to get his shirt off so rapidly. Jim rewarded him by dropping his hand. He needed it anyway. The green bite on his throat was tinged with dark copper bruising and Jim grinned. Jim didn't get very far with his explorations, however, because Spock stood, nearly dumping him on the ground.

"I believe the bed would be better suited to our needs." Spock told him primly, but damn was his voice rough.

Jim felt an entirely too familiar curl of heat between his legs and nearly panicked. That wasn't supposed to happen. Jim fought the panic down, told himself it was just a reaction to some entirely too familiar words. Not even his First Officer's deep, commanding, sharp, penetrating voice could change the Pavlovian response he had to an invitation to bed. Honest. It wasn't going to go anywhere near that kind of activity. Spock had their forefingers looped together and was already leading him back. Jim gave him a wide, encouraging grin when Spock glanced back at him.

When Jim couldn't quite push aside his alarm, he distracted himself with something else.

Specifically, he distracted himself by dragging Spock's hand up to his lips. Spock watched him with close interest, but said nothing. Seeing he got no reaction from the simple kiss, Jim decided experimentation was in order. He darted his tongue out, rubbing the pad of his finger languidly. Spock cocked his head to the side, apparently a little more interested in finding out where Jim was going with that. So Jim nipped at his fingers, scraping teeth against the sensitive skin there. Spock took a deep breath, eyes widening a little, but made no other move. Jim swirled his tongue around a bit, deciding what to do next, when he heard a soft growl from Spock. Apparently that felt a little better than the kisses they'd been experimenting with previously.

Jim grinned around his fingers, enjoying the almost embarrassed look on his face. That didn't last long when Spock took Jim's fee hand and began placing kisses along his fingers. It didn't feel as good, but there was a deeper intimacy to it than Jim was wiling to scrutinize. Then Spock did something with his tongue that sent entirely too many filthy ideas to one of the traitorous parts of his brain and Jim shut that shit down immediately by shoving Spock onto the bed and crawling on top of him...okay, so maybe he was still trying to shut it down a bit. Spock's mouth was more than happy to provide a distraction though. Linguists.

Spock pinned him to the bed, perfectly willing to use a strength and weight advantage to keep him where he wanted him. Jim was also minutely reluctant to dislodge him, because he would have to roll his hips up to do that, and that was a little too close to his usual activities in a bed for his comfort. The fact that he wasn't comfortable with it meant he wasn't cheating on their experiments, so he didn't have to mention that the thoughts were floating around in the back of his head. No melds though.

Jim did take the opportunity of their positions to dig his fingers into the muscles of that ass that he'd spent the last month not staring at. It was prudent to ignore the way that caused Spock's hips to grind against his. Spock either didn't notice or, more likely, didn't mind, because he never paused on his mission to replace every mark on Jim's chest.

It was over an hour later when the chime for Spock's door interrupted them. Jim groaned, throwing his head back onto the bed and sighing. Spock headed for the door, and Jim tilted his head a little to watch the muscles of his ass flex as he marched over there. Spock hadn't bothered with a shirt, that was probably going to make for a highly embarrassed ensign. Jim flopped back on the bed, catching his breath. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd hand an honest to god make-out session that lasted that long, let alone with everyone keeping their pants on.

Very distinctive and familiar laughter filled the room when the door opened and Jim sighed. When he stopped laughing, Bones was probably going to kill them both.

"Doctor." Spock responded stiffly. "You are interrupting my evening."

"I bet." McCoy sounded like he was grinning, so Jim heaved himself off the bed and headed towards the door. "You haven't eaten in a day, though, so I'm going to hypo you and encourage you both to have dinner. I'm sure you need your energy."

"Hey Bones." Jim called, leaning into Spock's space and noting the disapproving glare McCoy was giving the marks on his chest.

"For gods sake, remember to use protection." McCoy sighed.

Jim went scarlet, and he could see a deep green blush from the corner of his eye. "We don't have that kind of relationship."

McCoy raise an eyebrow. "I don't care how monogamous you are, use protection."

"Not that!" Jim croaked out, aghast. "I meant we aren't...we won't..."

"Uh huh." McCoy looked them over skeptically. "As your doctor, I'd like to know what kind of relationship you do have."

"We are currently conducting experiments to determine that very fact." Spock informed him curtly, arms actually folded over his chest, and it was incredibly distracting. "You will be informed if it becomes relevant in any way."

"Right." McCoy reached over and hypoed him. "I think I need a drink. Eat something. Not each other. God I need alcohol. Good night."

Jim blinked blankly at Bone's back as he hurried off. "That was weird...Uh...I guess I should get dressed if we're going out."

He glanced over at Spock, and saw that Spock was glancing over at him, lips a tight line, stern, eyes deep enough Jim wasn't sure there was a bottom to how far one could go. He also noticed something he really should have previously. Specifically, the dark, course facial hair Spock was sporting, more like a five day shadow than anything else, but actually fully visible and rugged. It made him look incredibly dangerous. Apparently when he actually started growing facial hair, it grew fast. Vulcans, he concluded, are weird.

Jim hadn't realize that the dangerous, fascinating, _handsome_ creature that was staring him down had made him weak in the knees until he slid part way down the wall he had at some point leaned against. It was only a little way down, but it was enough that the mutinous voice was gleefully chanting something about swooning. Jim was kind of having a hard time getting the parts of his brain to fully communicate just then. Spock made a soft, contemplative sound in the back of his throat and Jim sincerely hoped this wasn't going to be a thing, because he liked his knees. He didn't want to have to get rid of them for being mutinous bastards.

"You should also shave." Jim's mouth offered helpfully, because apparently he was never going to see that filter of his again.

Spock raised an eyebrow, moving away from the closed door. "I see."

Jim followed quickly. "Not that it's a bad look, because it isn't. It's great. Really great. Like holy shit great."

Spock whirled around, kissing him swiftly to shut him up. "Then I do not understand why you desire that I should shave."

Jim grinned, enjoying the feel of the scruff now that he really noticed it. "Remember how I didn't want you to wear casual clothes in front of other people?"

"Affirmative." Spock shifted so he could nuzzle behind Jim's ear.

It was tickling him and he tried not to laugh. "It's like that. That and I don't think I'd ever get any work done. You're kind of distracting."

"Indeed?" Spock rubbed his hands up and down Jim's back, almost possessively. "I will shave before leaving for my shift tomorrow. I would suggest, however, that we have food delivered if you indeed find my appearance so appealing. You may even retrieve the food if you do not desire for any crew member to view me in this state."

Jim's eyes widened. "Why the hell didn't I think of that? Yes!"

Spock obliged him by sending an alert to Rand. He then spend the next fifteen minutes distracting Jim while he attempted to get a shirt back on. Spock reasoned, not incorrectly, that Jim could be properly postponed by the sensation of his facial hair against sensitive skin. Jim didn't hesitate to slap him away when the door alert went off though, and Spock had to stop him and give him his shirt because he'd almost walked off without it.

Rand's look went from cautious to positively beaming when he answered the door. "Captain! I wasn't expecting...I should have...ah...here's your food."

"Thanks." Jim murmured, accepting the tray.. "Uh...yeah. I...might not see you tomorrow, Bones didn't seem really keen on letting me get back to work, but I'll be back soon. So...uh...thanks?"

She chuckled, smirking a little. "You're welcome Captain...enjoy your night."

Jim flushed and wanted to protest, but she was already gone. Somewhat grumpily, he turned around. Fantastic. They were going to presume strange sexcapaeds were happening, and he was really hoping to avoid that. He stepped into the back area and spotted Spock lounging on the bed. He couldn't help the goofy grin that just crept up on his face, so he presented the food with a flourish, pretending Spock wasn't the sole cause of it. Spock shifted himself into a sitting position and Jim knelt next to him, setting the tray between them.

"Don't get used to this dinner in bed routine." Jim warned playfully. "I'm a social creature and you can't possibly fulfill _all_ my needs."

Spock gave him a challenging, dark look, that brought Jim back to the beginning of this whole thing. "We will see."

Jim focused on the food, because he couldn't keep the blush off his face. It was something vegan, which really wasn't all that surprising. Jim was starting to wonder if maybe the crew wasn't trying to send him some kind of message. That or she thought Spock ordered two meals for himself because he hadn't eaten all day. He wasn't going to speculate on that. It wasn't like he had to have meat. Jim chuckled, the memory coming unbidden. Spock glanced over at him, eyebrow raised.

"Sorry, it's just..." Jim chuckled again. "I just remembered that my mom went through this phase, when I was seven. Everything meal was hand made, vegetarian, and super fresh. And then I joined Starfleet and most of the quiet restaurants near campus were ultra-vegan. A better crowed than the bars for studying anyway. I still don't know how to grill a steak or how to tell when chicken is cooked, but I can make some amazing things with black beans or sweet potatoes. Don't tell Bones, but sometimes I look at the chicken burgers he has me eating and miss the shaved root vegetable salads my mom used to make around the holidays. She kept that tradition up, even when meat and replicators came back into her life."

Spock watched him thoughtfully for a moment, before he offered a micro-expression of a smile. "My mother often took extreme measures, going so far as to celebrate holidays not native to her or my father's culture to create a celebratory pie composed of apples, sweet potatoes and cranberries."

"Harvest pie." Jim grinned. "That I can make."

"Fascinating." Spock gave him an indulgent eyebrow raise, before continuing with his food.

Jim shook his head. "Seriously, don't tell Bones though. Because then he'll switch my diet over completely and I would rather eat replicated chicken than replicated root vegetables. They can _never_ compare to the real thing."

"I believe the phrase you are expecting is 'your secret is safe with me'?"

"Mm." Jim leaned forward, giving him a quick kiss before he returned to his meal. "Thanks."

When they were finished, Spock left the tray on his desk and returned to lay on the bed next to Jim. Jim was more than happy to drape himself over him and draw squiggly lines on his chest. He briefly considered writing the one thing he knew in Vulcan, but considered that a discussion he was not ready for yet. Spock caught his hand finally, trapping it where someone would normally find the human heart. Jim didn't find himself missing it in its absence.

A distinct thought managed to worm its way into his brain and he turned it over, wondering why he never had pressed for an answer. "Hey Spock, you never answered my question."

He could tell by the way Spock's shoulder shifted that he had raised an eyebrow, and since when was that a whole body movement? "To what question are you referring?"

"Are you Bi?" Jim glanced up to catch the genuinely bemused look Spock was giving him. It had been well over a month since he asked.

"I assume you are inquiring about my sexuality on a somewhat one dimensional and ambiguous scale." Spock twitched an eyebrow when he shrugged. "Given my own observations, and those of close and trusted individuals, I exhibit preference for one gender with predominantly incidental tendencies towards members of my non preferred sex."

Jim immediately decided teasing was in order. "I guess I can't blame you, after all, you did make out with me _and_ Uhura. I was just wondering, because wouldn't it be illogical to have a preference? I mean, since you all don't think it's illogical to like guys because that's separate from 'procreation' then why have a preference?"

Spock exhaled softly and Jim was going to assume that was a sigh. "It would be far more illogical to fight one's biological imperatives to the point of distraction. Preference is acceptable when some decisions are made, as long as all decisions that stem from them are logical in nature. They are expected to be set aside for the sake of most decisions, but as I have previously explained, the Vulcan mating drive is a complex and dangerous process."

"Explain." It was still a question, spoken so softly.

Spock shifted so he didn't have to meet his eyes. "Logic is driven out completely by the plak-tow. The blood fever. The sickness leaves no shields, no control, only raw emotions. It is considered highly embarrassing by my people. If one does not already have a bond mate to whom they are mentally familiar, it is preferable that they be sexually appealing so that they are not considered to be competition for a viable mate."

Jim was floored by the openness, and the information, for that matter. "But as long as you have the bond and it isn't shielded, it'll be okay?"

"Typically, yes." Spock hesitated. "Often because the other partner is capable of expressing their consent and interest through the bond telepathically."

Jim snorted, because somehow that was really funny. "Try not to strangle me to death if I'm ever around when that happens."

Spock tensed, because it was not that funny to him. "Jim-"

"Hold on." Jim sat up, frowning. "I'm not trying to insult you, okay? I get that it's a big deal, that's why I'm teasing you. No matter who you're bonded to, no matter what happens, I want to be there for you. Even if all I'm doing is telling funny stories to your new wife about our missions, I want to be there for you when you need me. It's what friends do. I'm teasing you because, no matter how big a deal it is, it will _never_ be big enough a deal to chase me off, okay?"

Spock pulled Jim into a tight hug, burying his face in his hair. Jim wrapped his arms around his waist, hugging back fiercely. Spock placed a soft kiss in his hair.

Jim opted to diffuse the slight tension that had developed over the line of questioning with a quick kiss. Spock was clearly alright with the change of...topic...because he proceeded to fervently kiss him back. A small part of Jim wanted to have the bond open, but he knew that could probably skew their actions a little, so best not to. And he didn't want to risk Spock being in his head when it thought something mutinous and getting the wrong impression. And Jim knew that weird thoughts were going to crop up, because some parts of his brain apparently liked cuddling.

… .. . .. …

"I must get ready Jim." Spock murmured, attempting to extricate himself from his captain's embrace.

Jim pulled him down for another kiss, enjoying the feel of scruff against his skin. "Mm. You do. I don't. I could do this all day."

"I am curious how you intend to do such without me." Spock managed to get himself mostly standing, but Jim was placing kisses on his stomach, holding him firmly in place by his hips.

Jim chuckled. "Mm. I could keep you here. Executive order or something. Tell Bones I need to keep you. He might just let me do it. I can think of worse things than spending an entire day in bed with you."

"Indeed?" Spock raised an eyebrow. "I am gratified that my presence is not the most horrific, dangerous, or otherwise off-putting experience that you currently have knowledge of."

Jim pouted, pulling him down for a kiss. "Aw. You know I didn't mean it like that...In fact...I don't think I can think of a better way to spend the day...except in the command chair."

Spock smirked into his lips. "I am willing to accept that your command is of the utmost importance to you."

"Mm." Jim leaned back. "I bet we could get away with making out on the bridge. Our crew likes us. That would be great."

"It would be highly unproductive." Spock informed him. "I must still get ready Jim. Unless you would prefer I am both late and unkempt."

Jim sighed, flopping back on the bed. "Okay. Okay. Go shave."

Jim had more than a slight hint of pleasure, when Spock finally left for the bridge. He was late, but clean shaven. Jim had to admit, as nice as he looked 'unkempt' he was sharp and striking when he was neat. Jim could really learn to like Spock looking neat. And that was a horrible sign, because Jim prided himself on wanting to mess up his too neat look.

Jim managed to relax for all of half an hour before he started wandering around. It wasn't like Spock's room was all that much of a mystery to him, but he was going to wander around and snoop anyway. First things first, he was going through his drawers. Uniform. Uniform. Non-uniform black pants. Non-uniform black shirt. Ooh. Non-uniform blue shirt. Regulation issued Starfleet undergarments. Jim shut that drawer quickly. He also found his selection of vests. Apparently Spock liked the look. Jim couldn't exactly blame him, because he completely rocked that style.

Jim wandered over to his desk. It was immaculate...except for the bottle of hair gel hiding behind the monitor. And that, just sitting there, having never been cleaned up, made Jim have to lean back in the seat and cover his mouth. He ached, hurt from feeling too much. It was baffling, how that little indicator, that simple sign between them could bottom out his heart and make him nearly numb from emotion. Was this what it was like? Feeling so much that it overloaded you, that the only way to keep thinking was to feel nearly nothing? Was that how Spock experienced the universe? Jim hadn't thought that, when he got the barest hint of emotions through the bond, hadn't though that when they were ensconced deep within a meld, but now, he couldn't help but wonder.

It scared Jim, to think of emotions being that strong. His mother had gone numb, once, before Jim could talk or walk or start trouble, from too much emotion. Jim had seen men in blind rage, ravaged by their own savage heat so that only hollow shells remained. To imagine that there were people who could experience every emotion, every second to such an exponential degree...Jim shuddered. Were Vulcans so afraid of the immensity of their emotions that they would rather the numbness left behind? A numbness of an oversensitized nature, the very presence of which dictated the emotion they were feeling.

He wondered if Spock ever wished he could feel emotions like humans. Did his contact with Jim's emotions make any difference? Splash across the numb landscape of his mind and soak into the cracked dirt of an emotionless desert like a freezing rain? Or were his emotions no different, lost to the numbness, evaporated before they even touched? Or maybe, and here Jim felt a moment of guilt, were his emotions like rain on the ocean, causing churning tempests that crashed through floodgates as though they never existed? He sincerely hoped, in an aching echo of emotion, that it was the first. That Spock could experience his emotions as a new, refreshing, wonderful thing that he didn't have to fear.

Jim absently opened one of the drawers on the desk, looking for some distraction from his emotional overload. That proved, a second later, to have been the exact wrong action as he found a little red stone nestled among data chips, left there as though it were the safest place it could ever be.

Jim bit down hard on his fist, struggling with the overflowing sense of being _wanted_. He could already feel the pinprick of being tipped beyond, the numbness gone and his emotions wanting to escape however they could.

The chiming on the door ripped him from his feelings before he could be emotionally compromised to the point of crying. Jim stood quickly, shutting the drawer with a snap. He glanced down at himself and was momentarily glad that he had thought to shower after Spock left.

A few quick steps and he was greeted by a highly contemplative Yeoman. "Rand...how can I help you?"

"Commander Spock requested I check up on you." She dipped her head slightly in acknowledgment, an amused look on her face. "He didn't really specify what I was supposed to be checking on, but I hope to deliver a satisfactory report."

The bond. Jim knew Spock's shields on it were crap when it came to Jim's stronger emotions. He'd probably worried when he got a confusing blast of world rocking emotion. Well, it was that way for Jim. Who knew how it felt to Spock. Apparently it was enough, no matter how they felt, that he decided Jim needed checked up on. A faint ache in his chest reminded him that he was wanted, cared about, but it died like a lone ember and Jim felt like he could breath again.

He smiled politely at her. "I'm alright. I was just thinking about going to get brunch, actually. Can you join me or are you too busy?"

Rand pursed her lips, genuinely thinking about it. "I wouldn't mind, Captain, but I have work. I also doubt Commander Spock could be convinced I was simply ensuring your well being."

Jim laughed softly. "I'll convince him, you run."

She gave him a conspiratorial smirk. "Tempting. But no. I should be working. Will you be wandering around the ship much, or do you plan on returning here after you eat?"

He hadn't really though about it, but he was considering it now. "Well, I don't know. I'm not too keen on staying locked up in one room all day."

"Of course." Rand dipped her head slightly, her look turning somewhat mischievous. "It isn't nearly as much fun without someone else there to keep you entertained. I could of course alert the Commander to a...pressing level of emotional compromise. Nothing, I assure you, that our CMO would need to attend to."

Jim realized, with a start, that she was offering to send Spock down to spend the day with him. He shook his head with a laugh, incredulous. She had always seemed so shy, if not completely efficient. There had been occasions, where she had seemed bold, but only in her line of duty. Now he was seeing a sharp, funny, intelligent woman. He thought maybe, if he had met her in a different life, under different circumstances, he could have genuinely had a crush on her. Now, he just marveled at his new and conniving friend.

"Tempting." He mimicked lightheartedly. "But I won't keep him from work. Besides, I'm not so bored yet that I'm having emotional problems. I don't even have to do any paperwork."

Rand's eyes dropped with her smile, and she shifted awkwardly. "Permission to speak freely Captain?"

Jim frowned. "Of course. What's wrong?"

She bit her lip, almost reconsidering it. "Captain...This isn't my place to say this...but I'm relieved that you're doing much better." Jim's shock must have shown, because she kept going. "There was a while there...with no disrespect meant to you or your position, where I was genuinely worried for your health. I...well, I can't help but notice the change, since our leave at the Starbase. You seem so much better, so much more alive and happier..."

"Rand..." Jim didn't know what to say, didn't expect that _any_ of his crew had noticed.

She beamed at him. "I'm glad that you and the commander got together. Your relationship has been good for both of you. I'll take my leave now."

Jim could only gape at her, unable to protest as she whisked herself away. She knew. He had absolutely no doubt in his mind that she _knew_. She had already put the pieces together and decided they hadn't been dating before the incident on the Starbase and she knew and she wasn't telling anyone because...well, that stumped Jim, but he was sure, whatever the reason, she didn't care that their relationship was built on a lie. Such a devious woman.

… .. . .. …

Jim ended up back in Spock's room after lunch, mostly because he didn't have much to do. He ended up lounging on the bed with a PADD, looking up the scale Spock had mentioned previously. It was ambiguous, because there were several scales he could have been referring to. It wasn't all that important.

But then Jim got on a tangent, and he couldn't help the monumental curiosity he was feeling. After a few minutes of struggling to talk himself into it, he did an image search.

He immediately slammed his PADD down, cheeks burning. Jim felt like a thirteen year old boy looking at porn for the first time. Embarrassed, paranoid that not only would someone burst in immediately and call him on what he was doing, but also that everyone in the star system would know what he had done, and more than a little ashamed of himself. He tried to rationalize that he was a grown man and could look at whatever the hell he liked, but it was like trying to tell a cat to balance a treat on its nose; a bit more than an uphill battle.

He finally forced himself to look, and couldn't peel his eyes away. It was utterly fascinating, and yes, still embarrassing. Jim wasn't sure _how_ he felt about it.

He could stop. Tell himself that he was uncomfortable with it, so he didn't need to look at it. He could, but he wouldn't. He knew how uncomfortable he was, but, more importantly, he knew how uncomfortable he wasn't. The awkward, embarrassed feeling he had was nothing. He'd had that feeling the first time he kissed Spock. It hardly counted for anything. His curiosity was far more significant and he wasn't really one to deny it.

Jim relaxed back on the bed, equally fascinated and nervous. Until he spotted one picture that reminded him of a dark haired, incredibly _strong_ Vulcan. The nervousness momentarily disappeared under a wave of...interest. Jim tried desperately to tamp that down with alarm, and was moderately successful because that was deeply alarming. It didn't quite win out, however, against the somewhat autonomous parts of his body. Jim was absolutely mortified, throwing the PADD down and burying his head in his hands.

That wasn't supposed to happen. Jim was happily straight. He didn't think about things like that, let alone about someone he worked with. And certainly not a certain tall, dark, stoic male Vulcan who he depended on for his life. It didn't matter how good his shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders, or how well his regulation slacks fit, especially when he was bent over, or how easily he could lift Jim up and hold him with one hand, or the way he...

Jim threw his head back, groaning. That was not helping. Not in the slightest. Nor was the scent of Spock, all over the room, now that certain mutinous parts of his body were thinking for themselves.

Jim bit his lip, reasoning with himself. It was an experiment, just an experiment.

… .. . .. …

McCoy had called Spock with about fifteen minutes left on his shift, telling him to leave the bridge and collect Jim for a physical. It was a formality before Jim was released for duty, but Spock suspected that he had an ulterior motive. Otherwise, he had no reason to pull Spock from his work. He could wait for his shift to end, or he could have gotten Jim himself. No, Spock had very little doubt that he was planning something.

Spock didn't think to ask permission to enter his own quarters. He probably should have.

"Jim!"

Jim bolted up right, flinging himself off the bed. Spock had his back turned to him, and Jim couldn't blame him. It wasn't like he had been expecting to walk in on his captain. Jim fumbled with his pants, pulling them up. He felt incredibly clumsy as he did, like he had flippers instead of hands, for lack of dexterity. Clearly that wasn't true, because Jim had _just_ been exploring his dexterity. He felt like he was flushed and completely drained at the same time, probably violet in color.

"I..." Jim croaked, coughing to right his voice. "I can explain."

"That is not necessary." Spock ground out, voice hoarse. "The adult human male often seeks sexual release as a means of-"

"Oh my god!" Jim yelped. "Please stop!"

Spock snapped straight, barely even breathing loud enough to make sound. Jim thought he was breathing enough for the both of them. He was almost hyperventilating. How the hell could he have just done that? And on Spock's bed. Jim stood shakily, running his hands through his hair.

"I am so sorry." Jim whispered. "I swear to god I didn't intend for that to happen. I wouldn't have...I would _never_...I mean..."

He could hear the audible swallow as Spock gulped, uncomfortable. "It is of little consequence."

Jim cleared his throat unsuccessfully. "I'm...uh...dressed now. And I'll change your sheets. God. I am so sorry."

"Do not concern yourself with it." Spock said a little too fast.

Jim knew he had embarrassed him. Not even a Vulcan could pretend otherwise. Still, Jim wanted badly to fix this. Not that there was much he could do to fix his First Officer, best friend, and semi-boyfriend walking in on him. Jim dove for the PADD quickly, shutting it down before Spock could think to pick it up and look at what he was pursuing. Spock twitched, but didn't turn. Which sent off alarm bells in Jim's head, because he was acting highly suspicious, was dressed, and didn't attract an ounce of attention from Spock. Or rather, Spock apparently deemed that whatever he was doing wasn't worth turning around for.

Jim inched over toward him. "You...uh...you're early."

Spock's hands flexed in and out of fists at his side. "The Doctor requested I retrieve you for a health inspection."

Jim stepped closer, and Spock bristled. That was actually a bit insulting. "Damn it Spock. Either it is a big deal or it isn't. Don't tell me it's nothing and then act like every word out of my mouth is hydrochloric acid and is making your ears burn."

Spock tensed. "I believe there is an earth saying used to denote such a sensation when one is blushing."

Jim's eyes snapped to Spock's ears, or what he could see of them, and immediately caught the dark, impossibly green color there. Jim slowly rounded on him, eyes locked on his ears and face. He looked like he was going to bruise from the force of his blush. Something he was clearly struggling to control. Jim couldn't even imagine how he must look, flushed from exertion while he-Jim's brain frizzled out with a pop and he felt the blistering heat in his cheeks. He though maybe if he ever wanted to stop being embarrassed and blushing, he would have to stop dating Spock, because he was the start of all that nonsense.

Jim opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking for any words he could say. "Bones is probably upset." He finally muttered lamely.

It worked, though, because Spock quirked an eyebrow, slowly, almost hesitantly. "The statistical likelihood of Doctor McCoy being upset is 84.376 percent."

Jim sputtered quietly, not even really sure if that was funny or not. "I'm not sure how you measured that percentage, but seeing as you agree, we should probably head down there."

Jim reached out to clasp him on the arm and Spock stepped back quickly, eyes widening. "Do not touch me before you have washed your hands."

He yanked his hands back with a swear. "Sorry. Sorry. I'll just...uh...clean up. Yeah. Then we can go."

… .. . .. …

"You're late." McCoy called, not even looking up from what he was doing. "Bio beds, now."

"Doctor, I do not-"

"You're getting a check up too." He cut Spock off. "This one by order of some stuffy old Vulcans."

"I have already had my most recent required exam and therefor decline." Spock told him primly. "If the high council has requested my medical records, they sure have given you some explanation as to the nature of their need for them?"

"Just that some Vulcan healer was interested in seeing how your vitals have changed since the bond has settled." McCoy waved it off, turning to Jim, who was actually waiting quietly on a bed. "If you don't want to do it, you can tell them you refuse. Don't drag me into this political bull."

Spock blinked, glancing over at Jim in consideration. "I see. As bonds with non-telepathic species are uncommon, it is understandable that they would wish to determine the effectiveness of the bond. Given the necessity to introduce genetic diversity into the remaining population of Vulcans, it is imperative that our scientists determine the most effective route. I will submit to a physical, doctor."

"Was the explanation necessary?" McCoy snorted, running a tricorder over Jim.

Spock simply quirked an eyebrow in response. Jim squirmed a bit, feeling even more awkward at the mention of their bond. What if it hadn't helped anything? What if it had made Spock's vitals worse? If it had proven to be a problem and Spock was just keeping it from him because he didn't want him to worry? They'd take Spock away. They'd cut the bond completely and find someone else for him. And it would all be Jim's fault.

Spock set his hand on Jim's neck, gently. "Jim, what is wrong?"

He looked down at his hands, because he wasn't keen on meeting anyone's eyes. "Nothing."

"Move your hand hobgoblin." McCoy ordered. "You're messing with my scans."

Spock reluctantly withdrew his hand. McCoy returned to his scans, and immediately gave Jim a confused and suspicious glare. He ran the tricorder over him again, sneered and turned immediately to Spock. Spock raised an eyebrow as the tricorder was waved over him in a mildly disconcerting and threatening manner. McCoy promptly swore at what he was reading and slammed his tricorder down on the medical table by the bed.

"Do you think this is funny?" He snarled, eyes darting between them.

"What?" Jim frowned, glancing at Spock. "Bones, what?"

He narrowed his eyes at him, poking him roughly in the chest. "Now see here. I'm not going to but into your personal life any more than necessary." Jim scoffed. "But! But, I'll be damned if I let you waltz in here _late_ for a mandatory check-up because you were knocking boots with the pointy eared computer."

"Excuse me, WHAT?" Jim yelped.

Both of Spock's eyebrows disappeared up his forehead. "Doctor?"

"Don't you doctor me." McCoy hissed. "I can read a damn tricorder. I know what these hormone levels in you both signify. God damn it Jim. Can't you have at least kept it in your pants long enough to let me do my physical first?"

Jim was gaping at him, flushed. "That is not what happened! I swear. I was just...and then Spock...we didn't...wait...did you say...both?"

Jim darted a surprised look at Spock, who stiffened, a mortified look passing behind his eyes. Jim's jaw dropped in surprise, mouth falling open. Bones glanced between them again, well aware that he had just stumbled into something he really didn't want to be a part of.

"You were..." Jim whispered, positive he had just accidentally been pushed into a different dimension.

"Let's finish this, shall we?" McCoy muttered quickly. "We need to get it taken care of. Then you can have extremely awkward discussions without me."

Bones did just that, among immensely awkward glances and extreme tension. The tension was what bothered him the most. And while he couldn't quite deny the curiosity he had over what the hell was going on between them, he had a pretty good idea that finding out would probably cause some form of mental scarring. He was all too happy to release them from Sickbay, muttering something about sending off a report on Spock's health to the Vulcans when he got a chance. Spock stormed out of there a small step below running, and Jim followed after, tense.

Spock didn't turn to look at him when they entered his room. That, Jim thought, was just like him.

"Is that why you weren't looking at me?" Jim snapped. "Because you were..." He gestured wildly with his hand, not that Spock could see it from behind his back.

"It is of no consequence." Spock paused when Jim made a somewhat strangled sound of anger. "It will not occur again."

"You think?" Jim hissed. "What even...I mean, I thought you were straight."

Spock hesitated, for a very, very long time. "You were incorrect in your assumption."

"I what!?" Jim shrieked. "You mean to tell me this entire time you've been attracted to guys?"

Spock turned to regard him coolly, one eyebrow raised. "You may be surprised to find Captain, that you are not the definitive factor for determining if someone is attracted to the male gender. My predilection towards the male gender does not equate to a desire for you."

"Bullshit." Jim snapped. "Don't even pretend this wasn't relevant just because you hadn't thought about me like that before. You're...you know...and you didn't think to maybe tell me that when you were leaving hickeys all over my chest? It didn't occur to you that maybe your sexuality was skewing things with me?"

"I will remind you that I attempted to end our physical relationship." Spock narrowed his eyes, glaring at him. "It was you who insisted that, with no concern towards sexual preference, we continue our interactions."

Jim sputtered. "That was before I knew you liked men!"

Spock gave him a wry, almost disgustedly amused micro-expression. "I do not see what relevance that has."

"You _know_ what I mean." He snarled a bit, flustered. "You didn't even...Jesus. You _knew_ I thought you were straight and you just let me keep on believing that. I should have figured it out when you didn't actually use gender specific terms to refer to your sexuality. You were actively keeping it hidden from me. Why?"

"Is your reaction now not enough justification?"

"I'm pissed off because you didn't tell me!" Jim slammed his palm against the wall. "I makes a difference and you know it. The fact that there was ever a possibility you could end up attracted to me, especially while you were pretending to be my _boyfriend_ is important."

"Then you would side with the crew and believe my actions were motivated by some ulterior desire beyond your well being?" Spock's voice could cause ice burn, it was so frosty. "I did not inform you because we were not engaged in a relationship, nor were we going to be. My sexuality is private and of no concern to you. Further, I did not wish to cause you distress, knowing your illogical phobia of-"

"You did _not_ just accuse me of that!" Jim cut him off, storming into his space. "I am not homophobic!"

Spock didn't get to respond immediately, because Jim was kissing him, but he pushed him back forcefully. "Kissing me to prove a lack of fear or hatred in my sexual preferences is illogical Captain. I am not interested in engaging in such activities with you."

"Really?" Jim folded his arms over his chest. "Because that certainly wasn't how it seemed this morning. Or when you walked in on me. Were you thinking about joining me? Pinning me to your bed and-"

"Enough!" Spock snapped. "You will cease insulting me in such a manner. I do not desire you. Nor would I attempt to initiate any such relationship with you. I am aware that we are not sexually compatible. It would be grossly inappropriate and inconsiderate to attempt to pursue such a relationship if I were ever to become interested in such a thing with you. Further more, if we were legitimately bonded and pursuing a relationship I would not engage in sexual behavior with you until such a time as it was appropriate for the nature of our relationship."

Jim snorted. "That is such a load of bull."

"I do not understand why-"

"Bullshit." Jim snapped. "Don't pretend for even a second that you wouldn't take me if I was open to it. You said it yourself. I _belong_ to you."

Spock snarled. "You do not understand what it means to belong to someone. You have never belonged."

Jim bristled, eyes stinging, the heat gone from his voice. "You're right there. I've never belonged anywhere."

"Jim...I did not mean my statement in that manner." Spock reached for him, but allowed his hand to drop when Jim flinched. "It is...painful...that you think so lowly of me as a person or friend. You question my morals and you-"

"I didn't mean that." Jim interrupted, staring down at his feet. "I wasn't...I'm just confused, and a little hurt that you didn't tell me. I...why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you trust me enough to know that? Didn't you think that I'd stay? Nothing, _nothing_ will be a big enough deal to chase me off. But that fact that you can claim you thought I was your friend, but you would think that something like that would change my opinion...I did this to _help_ you. I know...I know that you started this to save my life. For no other reason. I know that. And I offered to help because I didn't want to loose you, because I didn't want you to be hurt and forced into something you didn't want."

"I am sorry." Spock placed his hands at his back. "I had believed you would be...upset. It was an erroneous conclusion, with no merit. I had nothing to base this assumption on. It was illogical of me. I was...afraid of your response."

Jim stepped forward, reaching up hesitantly to place his hand against the side of Spock's neck. "You don't have to be afraid of me."

Spock relaxed ever so slightly, though his eyes were still tight. "I understand Jim."

Jim hesitated, glancing away before giving Spock a small smile. "Can I...uh..."

Spock raised one eyebrow very slightly, barely enough to even be noticeable. "You may do whatever you find necessary."

Jim took a deep breath, and leaned forward to place a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. Spock froze for a moment, before gently returning the gesture. It was almost sweet, and Jim felt his tension ease. Spock ghosted his hands over Jim's biceps, before gripping him softly. Jim kissed a little harder, pressing himself flush against him. He could feel Spock's muscles tense, and attempted to sooth that with careful ministrations. Spock slid his hands down to clasp together behind Jim's back, resting at his waist. Jim moved his hands down to loop them at Spock's waist.

Spock pulled back first, eyes wider, less tense. "Jim...that is...not the most logical action."

Jim shrugged, his chest rising and falling against Spock's. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

He leaned in again, for a slightly less chaste kiss. Specifically, he bit his lip. Spock let him direct their movements, not willing to make any presumptions about Jim's actions. He was completely compliant, however, when Jim walked him back to the bedroom, before pushing him into a seated position on the bed. Spook peered up at him silently, curious about Jim's next move.

"Stay." Jim ordered, wide grin splitting his face.

Spock raised an eyebrow, but complied. Jim walked over to the computer desk and Spock could just barely see him leaning over. Jim came back with his hair gel, and Spock gave him a resigned look. Jim was quick to take his position in Spock's lap, smirk firmly in place.

"Jim..."

"Hands." Jim ordered.

Hesitantly, Spock offered his hands, palms up. Jim squeezed some of the gel in Spock's hands, watching his eyebrow wince at the awkward texture and temperature. Jim tangled his fingers with Spock's, spreading the gel around in what was probably the most awkward and messy kiss they'd had to date. Spock flushed, watching their fingers with awe.

"Now..." Jim purred. "Run your fingers through my hair."

Spock complied quickly, arms tangling awkward with Jim's as he ran his own fingers through his hair, directing him. "What is the purpose of this exercise?"

"I want you to do something of your own." Jim hummed. "Make me look how you want me to."

Spock hesitated. "I do not wish to change how you look, Jim."

He rolled his eyes. "That's not...Spock, I'm trying to give a little ground here. Just...work with me. I'm trying to make this less awkward."

"You are seated in my lap, on my bed, after an extended discussion on my sexuality as it may or may not pertain to you." Spock huffed. "I believe it is something commonly referred to as a moot point. Further interactions of a solicitous nature are not likely to be conducive to alleviating this situation of tension."

Jim sighed, wiping his hands clean on his shirt. "Spock, please. I'm trying to fix things between us."

Spock pulled his hands back, looking at him imploringly. "Why must something be wrong?"

"Okay." Jim acquiesced, placing a soft kiss on the corner of Spock's mouth. "In that case, we're playing. Now help me relax a little."

Reluctantly, Spock straightened Jim's hair into something of his normal look. Jim sighed, rolling his eyes again. With a long suffering sigh, he shoved Spock down onto the bed and moved off of his lap. Spock craned his neck to watch Jim as he headed to the bathroom. A moment later, he shifted, pulling the PADD that had been discarded on his bed out from under his back. Curious. Why had Jim been interested in a simple PADD during their interactions before leaving for Sickbay?

Jim glared at his hair as he washed his hands. He wanted to fix it, to do something better, but _Spock_ had done it so he wasn't going to change it even a bit.

He left the bathroom to see Spock's back. He was sitting up incredibly straight on the bed, tense. Jim looked him over, wondering what had happened, when something clicked. The PADD was missing.

"What are you doing?" Jim snapped, yanking the PADD out of his hands as he rounded the front.

Spock looked up at him, pure, honest shock on his face. "You..."

Jim flushed, making a horribly garbled noise as he realized that yes, Spock was looking at what he had been looking at when he walked in. "Do you realize how much an invasion of my privacy that was?"

Spock stood, putting himself chest to chest with him, and raised an eyebrow. "I do not believe you have been completely honest with me."

"It was just an experiment. It didn't even interest me." Jim snarled. "I wasn't even hard until I started thinking about you."

Jim froze when he realized what he had just said. Spock also froze, looking like it was taking considerably more effort to process that statement than it should have. Jim placed a hand over his mouth, backing up and shaking his head, horrified. Spock caught his arm, and Jim silently cursed that he chose now to start taking liberties with him. He didn't try to pull away though, just staying at arms length. At some point the PADD had fallen discarded to the ground.

"You were sexually aroused by the thought of engaging in intercourse with me." Not a question, so Jim wasn't going to answer, not even with a negative.

"I'm not homosexual." Jim attempted to counter, but Spock just gave him a look.

"I am beginning to doubt the validity of your own assessment." He looked far more amused, with those eyebrows raised, than he had any right to be.

Jim flushed, rubbing the back of his neck and darting his eyes away nervously. "No. Seriously. I'm not. I don't even do that kind of stuff with girls."

Spock blinked. "I am positive that you are aware of the definition of homosexuality and am therefor unable to provide any explanation for how you could preform homosexual acts with a female."

"You know what I mean." Jim ground out, making vague gesture with his hand.

Spock's eyes lighted with recognition, and then pure amusement. "Captain."

Jim winced, because the use of his title just then was almost condescending and far more teasing than he'd ever heard. "Yes Spock?"

"I find it quite difficult to believe that you are indeed this poorly educated." Spock informed him. "You are, however aware that not all homosexual males desire or enjoy anal penetration, are you not?"

Jim had gone cranberry from blushing. "Oh."

"Captain, was this your only basis for determining that you had no sexual inclinations towards the male gender?"

"No!" Jim yanked his hand back. "I...I mean, of course not. I'm not interested in guys. I've never been."

"And yet you were capable of sexual arousal while engaged in suitable thoughts about my person." Spock raised a challenging eyebrow.

Jim squawked, wrapping his arms tight around himself and tucking his hands under his arms. "That's not...That was a one time thing. The first and last. It doesn't count. It's an anomaly."

"Perhaps further experimentation in this matter is necessary." Spock's lips quirked ever so slightly. "I will not be offended if you choose to consider me during your investigations."

"You think this is so damn funny, don't you?" Jim snapped, gripping himself tighter. "Well, I'm not exactly having a wonderful time here."

Spock's look softened and he tilted his head to the side, regarding Jim with some level of fondness. "Jim, I am not attempting to be derisive. I had believe that humor would be effective in diminishing your tension and expressing comfort and a willingness to be of any assistance necessary. It would appear I am not adept at this method of interaction."

"You..." Jim gulped, confused and nervous and still antsy. "You were? Okay...Okay. I need to think."

"It may please you to know that your rooms have been decontaminated now and you are free to used them."

Jim gave a small, appreciative smile at the fact the Spock was offering to let him have his space. "Yeah...Thanks. I'll...just get my stuff and go."

"Very well." The stood staring at each other for a moment before Spock glanced away. "It would be understandable, in light of your current need for contemplation, if you did not, but the crew has expressed immense desire for you to visit the rec room. I believe they...miss you, Captain."

He nodded. "Okay. I've got plenty of time. I'll go check up on them...thank you...uh...do you want to come with? We can play chess."

Spock gave him a surprised glance, before nodding once, warmly. "That would be very pleasing, Jim. Thank you."

… .. . .. …

At some point Spock had gotten caught up with crew members, so Jim seated himself on a couch in the rec room where he could watch him. Uhura plopped down next to him, smiling in greeting. Jim nodded to her politely, before returning to his admittedly favorite hobby. Spock was standing perfectly straight among a gaggle of science personnel, explaining something. He could her him using his lecture voice, though he couldn't quite make out the words.

"How are you feeling, Kirk?" She asked finally.

Jim glanced over, smiling awkwardly. "I'm alright, figuring it out."

Uhura nodded primly. "Need any help with that?"

He gave her a surprised look, before conspiratorially checking to ensure everyone in the room was preoccupied and no where near overhearing them. "Well, I do have one question...about you and Spock."

She raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Okay. Sure."

"Is the reason you broke up because he's not attracted to women?"

"He what?" She hissed, eyes going wide and glancing at Spock. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't know?" Jim blanched. "Shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I just thought...I figured you would have known. Crap. I just totally violated his privacy. Please, please don't tell him I said anything."

"How the hell did _you_ find this out?" A second later some conclusion clicked and her eyes widened. "Oh my god. Are you two-"

"No!" Jim whispered quickly. "It's not like that. I just...look, can we forget I said anything. It was stupid."

Uhura was staring at him though, breathing a bit too quickly. Jim awkwardly sank back into his seat, looking anywhere but at her. Which meant his eyes fell back to Spock. Spock was going to kill him. There was a difference between the crew assuming things because of who they thought he was dating, and his actual friends actually knowing. There was the small positive, though, that Spock's ex-girlfriend didn't even know, so maybe he really didn't think to tell Jim.

"We broke up because I was frustrated." She responded softly, looking at Spock instead of him. "I felt like I was some...blank screen that he just projected his emotions onto. It made me uncomfortable, upset. He let me express everything. It was like...it was like he was using me to humanize himself. Like he needed me to be human so he didn't have to be. It made me sick. And that's not fair to him, because it isn't his fault that that's just the way he is. He's never going to be some deeply romantic, incredibly sensitive and secretly playful kind of guy and I shouldn't have tried to push that on him."

Jim glanced away guiltily. Spock was...well, everything she could have possibly wanted. He had an amazingly sharp wit, a playful and teasing side that was so carefully constructed that it was near impossible to detect, a suspiciously romantic though process in an entirely alien and wonderful way, and he had so much more to him than just human behavior. Jim felt sorry for her, that she could never see that about him. It wasn't that Spock needed her to project emotions on to, or that he was using her to make his own human aspects seem less noticeable.

Spock was Spock. He didn't need someone to show emotion to, he had it in spades. Jim laughed because Spock was funny, smiled because he was kind and smart and sweet on occasions. Jim reacted to Spock, because Jim could see everything he was putting forward. Spock wasn't relying on him to act out the emotions he was expressing. Those conspiratorial glances, a look that said Jim saw what he'd done there, was all it took. It didn't matter, to Spock, if others ever knew what had happened, because he had expressed himself just fine. He had humanity, yes, but he showed it fairly, not as some separate part of him, but as another aspect, intrinsically entwined with his Vulcan heritage and upbringing. Spock didn't have to say a word, or make some big production of it, he said it all well enough by saying nothing, but doing instead. It was the little moves, that counted the most, and if Spock chose to express himself in some larger method, something more emotionally revealing, it had nothing to do with the person he was projecting on, but rather the depth of the emotions he was projecting.

Understanding him now, from what little he had seen of their relationship, Jim felt his chest ache at the realization of just how much Spock loved Uhura. Still loved her, in some way.

And he hurt, not just for Spock, because his love had been rejected and pushed aside, but for Uhura too. It wasn't often, that someone got to be loved like that, to feel that kind of devotion and affection. It was something that everyone deserved to feel, to know and understand at to allow it to heal them. But she never knew, would never know. And while he had no doubt she would find a love just as good and strong in her own time, he still felt for her.

Even without the bond, Jim had understood the kind of devotion Spock was capable of. Coming to know his heart and soul as well as he did just cemented that fact.

The realization struck Jim like a blow and he stood sharply, wobbling. Spock glanced over, but made no attempt to extricate himself from his discussion. Uhura stood beside him, offering a steady hand, which he refused. He needed to leave, needed air. He started towards the door, offering her a quick good bye. He gave Spock a reassuring nod, and could see the easy relief in the way he turned back to his discussion without a single thought. To think that someone else would have found that gesture dismissive or rude.

Jim walked blindly to his quarters. It seemed strange going there, like he was somewhere he didn't belong. It was funny, because Spock would probably insist he stop sleeping in his room when their relationship became official...Jim didn't really have the energy to be upset, so he decided to be amused by the fact that his mind decided it was inevitable. It probably was anyway.

The sight of a small, green rock sitting on his nightstand brought tears to his eyes and he sat heavily on his bed.

"_You are in love with me."_

Spock had been teasing him.

"_You need not be ashamed."_

Just because other people were bad at reading them, didn't mean Jim couldn't understand himself. It was the little things that showed so much, and the bigger displays...they spoke of ineffable depths. Jim turned the stone over in his hand, a soft smile playing on his lips. No. It really _wouldn't_ be so bad. And, that little champion of awkward in a corner of his brain reminded, what the hell did love have to do with sexuality anyway?

… .. . .. …

Jim glanced up smiling from the PADD he was currently inspecting for the Admiralty when Spock stepped up next to his chair. "Yes Commander?"

Spock presented him with a new PADD. "The reports on our exploration mission and the summarization there of, as you requested Captain."

Jim grinned, brushing his fingers against Spock's as he took the PADD. "Thank you Mr. Spock."

Spock's eyes twinkled with amusement as he returned to his work. He glanced back in time to catch the sidelong look Jim gave him, indulgent smile unchanged. The barest hint of a nod said more than enough. The slightest widening of his smile, the faintest crinkling of his eyes in amusement; Jim could feel the little, involuntary expression. Spock's lips pressed together just a little more tightly, an acknowledgment. And no one had any clue.

When their shift ended, Spock headed straight to his side, still at something close to attention. Jim gave him a little nod and a bright smile in acknowledgment, and they were on their way. Spock didn't question where they were going, just followed patiently. Jim lead him to their observation deck. He was ready to talk, and it was a pleasantly private place, more often than not. This time was no different, the room deserted except for the wide expanse of space. Jim didn't mind if the stars played witness.

Spock moved to stand next to him by the window, watching them streak past. It was a comfortable silence, that Jim was almost loath to break, but no matter how well he might be able to say it without words, he wanted to voice his conclusions.

"I've come to my senses." Jim said conversationally, noting the slight confused tension his words brought. "I thought it was only fair that you should be the first to know."

"Indeed? I do not know to what you are referring."

"Oh, right." Jim turned, smiling. "I'm in love with you."

Spock stiffened, eyes going wide. "Forgive me the complexity of human pranks-"

"Are nothing compared to Vulcan ones." Jim chuckled. "I'm not joking Spock. I really do love you."

"I..." Spock let his mouth hang open for 2.54 seconds before snapping it shut, speechless.

Jim waved a hand carelessly, trying not to show his nervousness. "I still don't know about this whole sexuality thing. That's going to be a work in progress. But...I do know that I love you."

"Jim." Spock whispered, taking a step closer.

"You don't have to love me back. You don't have to anything." Jim assured him quickly. "I just thought you should know. If you want to break the bond or something, then I get it."

Spock cocked his head to the side. "Vulcan's have no used for love, Jim."

Jim glanced up sharply from where he had let his eyes wander to the stars, not daring for a second to believe.

"However...I find if I were given the choice, it would be quite logical to be in love with you."

Jim felt a goofy grin light his face. "And what are Vulcans if not completely logical?"

"I do not know." Spock raised an eyebrow. "However, I am only half Vulcan, so therefor am somewhat less dictated by logic than my peers."

"A shame," Jim hummed. "That your human side can't be convinced with logic."

The silence they shared then was conspiratorial at best, and down right devious at its worst. Half of his heart may be using the excuse of logic to love him, but the other half didn't need it. Jim thought, more than any kiss or touch they could ever share, the look between them just then was the most intimate thing they could ever have.

Jim could feel it, not from the bond, but just from Spock himself, that he was being true and honest. He loved him back.

"I hope you realize I'm not going to bother changing our anniversary." Jim grinned.

"Indeed. The paperwork would prove quite difficult." Spock turned back to the observation window. "You do realize that, with the exception of those who were aware of our deception, it would be redundant to re-announce our liaisons, correct?"

Jim smirked. "Yeah, probably...But then...we never did confirm that news story." Spock gave him a sideways look and Jim grinned. "I'm counting that as a laugh."

"Illogical." Spock informed him.

"You could always chuckle at something I say." Jim admitted with a shrug. "But I've caught on to you. Just because I can't hear it doesn't mean you aren't laughing."

"A laugh is an audible expression of amusement."

"Then I'm counting every time you say fascinating or illogical when you find something I say funny as a laugh." Jim countered.

"...You are unorthodox in your methods."

"That counts too."

"As you wish Jim."

"So you're just going to give in?"

"I am merely behaving in a logical manner."

"...I love you too."

"Indeed."

"Also, we're discussing the Vulcan poetry you were writing on my abdomen."

"...Affirmative."

"Spock..." Jim gave him an uncertain smile. "Is this something you really want?"

"It is." Spock gently brushed his fingers across Jim's temple. "I am quite amendable to the suggestion of forming a life long bond with you Jim. If our relationship is never to become physical, then I will go a lifetime without such frivolities."

Jim rolled his eyes. "First of all, you know I'll still make out with you. Don't even start with that propriety junk and tell me that we shouldn't because our relationship is new."

"I would not presume to do so. What is your second declaration?"

Jim bit his lip, glancing away nervously. "Well, sexuality aside, I hope you realize I'm not going to let anyone else sleep with my fiance to save his life."

Spock bristled. "I would not force myself on you during-"

"We can have this discussion after I've figure out my sexuality." Jim countered. "Right now, I kind of want to go tell _everyone_ that I'm in love with you."

"Such a display is illogical."

"I'm an illogical human. It would be _more_ logical to just indulge me, rather than argue."

"Indeed." Spock smirked. "I believe it should not prove difficult to gain access to the ship intercom, or to send statements to the numerous news groups within the Federation."

Jim grinned, leaning in for a kiss. It was a little hard to believe, that his first real relationship, and his first time dating a guy, would be his last, but Jim couldn't imagine wanting to spend all of space time with anyone else. And, as Spock placed his hand in the small of his back and returned his kiss, he felt like he was ten feet tall. And he felt like a weight was lifted from him, because for perhaps the first time ever, he had found something honest. Not a single thing about the sparks between them was a lie.

It had taken him one year and a handful of months, but he knew he was on the right track now. In the grand scheme of things, that was only a little while. He had a long time to tell the truth.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**Yikes! That was one heck of a chapter.**

**I still don't know how I feel about an epilogue. Part of me doesn't know where I'd even take it after this. Part of me says I could at least offer a clip chapter, showing everyone's reactions to finding out and so on and so forth, as well as a little tidbit about Jim having figured everything out. I think everyone already knows the foregone conclusion there though.**

**All in all, I'd be too afraid of screwing up the story by adding an epilogue. I'm afraid it would take away from the impact of their successful relationship and seem dull in comparison to ending it on this supreme high note.**


End file.
